


On Beauty

by DontStopHerNow



Series: Summer of Strings [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol as a questionable coping strategy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Enthusiastic Consent, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Multi, Neville Longbottom has ADHD, PTSD, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Rebuilding Hogwarts, Red String of Fate, Smut, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 103,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24576700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontStopHerNow/pseuds/DontStopHerNow
Summary: Neville Longbottom watched chaos unfold around him for years, doing the next right thing every chance he got. Now, with Snake Face dead, his path is clear: rebuild Hogwarts, reconnect with old friends, and make some new ones.But there are so many more questions now than there were before. Why is Luna rejecting their soul bond? What does his soul bond have to do with Hermione's theories on rebuilding the Room of Requirement? How can Neville want both Hermione AND Draco? And, if Neville's string with Luna will never lead him to her, where WILL it lead him?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy, unrequited Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Series: Summer of Strings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683559
Comments: 63
Kudos: 86





	1. Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this third part of my Summer of Strings trilogy! The first few chapters give Neville's perspective on the events of the first two parts, always with further context for those scenes than we got from Hermione or Draco.

October 1997 - June 13, 1998

It was hard to remember certain things. It would probably always be hard to remember these things, so Neville kept a small notebook and pencil in his pocket to jot down things he was likely to forget. It had been hard to remember homework assignments, and harder to remember to do those homework assignments. But, the notebook helped. He had learned how to covertly check it each morning and at points throughout the day to be sure he was not forgetting something important.

It had been the notebook that first made Lavender notice him. She caught him looking through it in one of the school alcoves before class, plagued by the thought he had forgotten something, but unable to remember what that something might have been.

“Neville, is that my name?”

Neville froze. “Uh, maybe?” He looked, and yes, it was a list of birthdays, Lavender’s at the top. “Yeah, just wanted to be sure I didn’t forget anyone’s birthday.”

She smiled then, a true smile. “That’s so sweet, Neville.” She went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “So sweet.”

She disappeared then, leaving Neville blushing and beyond confused. Lavender? What?

Several days later, after Neville’s first bout of “detention”, Lavender fawned over him in the Gryffindor common room. “Neville, this is just awful.” 

She performed several healing spells to stop the bleeding from his split lip and reduce the swelling in the black eye he could feel forming from when he had hit his head off the floor during the curse. She was so close. And, she had been watching him. He knew because he was always watching everyone.

He reached up and caressed her long braid, feeling like something had been freed in his mind. “Thank you, Lavender. Your hair is really beautiful. Has anyone told you that?”

She bit her lip, looking down. “Not recently…”

“Are you alright?”

She trembled a little bit. “This is just the start, isn’t it?”

Neville nodded. “Yes.”

“And, there’s nothing we can do about it?”

Neville shook his head. “Just tell the truth and be brave. But, no, I don’t think there’s much we can do from Hogwarts.”

She sighed and looked at him in the eyes. “Neville, I’m scared. Aren’t you scared?”

He pulled her into a hug. “Yes, but not as scared as I’d be without hope.”

She pressed into him, then pulled away to look at him again, somehow appraising. “Kiss me.”

He was not one to argue with a girl about this sort of thing, so he obliged. It was wet. It was wet and it continued to be wet.

Then, his head knocked into Lavender’s when he was smacked in the head. He looked up at Ginny’s face in a scowl. “Get out of the common room with your snogging. It’s upsetting the first years.”

Lavender scowled back, her face in a pout. She grabbed Neville’s hand and pulled him into the stairwell. “It’ll have to be yours. You can’t get up to the girls’ dorm.”

Neville felt his eyes go wide. “To mine?” 

She nodded and pulled him close to whisper. “Yes. You deserve a reward. For bravery and service to Gryffindor.”

The liberal use of muffliato covered the embarrassing sounds of two people losing their virginities. He had to convince her that he really did want her to get off, and that she should not fake it. They had to go a second round before she seemed to finally let go and enjoy herself for real.

After they were both done, they seemed to have nothing more to say to each other. Lavender sneaked out and they did not talk about it again.

…Until a few weeks later when Neville had another detention and Lavender patched him up again. It led to the same outcome, but this time, she spent the night, falling asleep clutching him. She was gone in the morning.

This pattern repeated until Christmas. It was rather ridiculous. They simply sought each other when they needed comfort and ignored each other in between. In a strange way, Neville wondered if he was getting in trouble on purpose. But, every time he noticed Lavender in class or around the common room, he felt no particular desire to talk to her, or be near her or, that rushing feeling he always felt with a crush.

When Christmas came, whatever had been between them was just gone.

There was also the fact he had gotten on with Amy Martin at her parents’ Christmas party. That threw a wrench in anything he might have resumed after the holidays with Lavender. He got together with Amy a few more times before the end of the holidays.

Amy was both in awe of him and not especially kind. Oh, she never noticed him before this year, and now he was so fit and rugged. Oh, he was always getting in trouble, such a bad boy, so dangerous, so brave. How had she never noticed him when Harry Potter was around? She had no idea.

Neville had the distinct impression she was playing some weird relationship game with him. She kept forgetting the contraceptive charm, which was the one thing Neville never wanted to forget. She sent him long letters professing her love that made no sense with what started as a quick thing in her bedroom while a party happened downstairs.

He wrote her a short, precisely-worded letter before school began again. This had been fun while it lasted, but he was not interested in her the way she was interested in him, and he never would be. It was as harsh as he could bring himself to be. Her reply consisted of an extremely long howler that his Gran heard from upstairs.

“Neville, who was that from? I don’t believe you’re cruel like that, my boy.” She sat with a cup of tea as he cooked their dinner, the house elf having his weekly night off.

He froze slightly, nicking his finger with the slicing spell. “Uh, Amy Martin.”

“From the Christmas party? I’m surprised!”

“I’m sorry, Gran. It’s not how you raised me.”

She frowned with a scoff. “I’m not surprised at you, I’m surprised she’s that sort of girl. She was always so sweet and unassuming. But, that was a rage I’d expect from a Travers or a Weasley. Maybe a Rosier if there were still any of them around. But not a Martin.”

Neville turned to look at her. She was sipping her tea with a gentle expression but hard eyes. “So, you’re not upset about me getting a howler, or what she said in it?”

She made a dismissive sweeping motion with her hand. “You can’t control that, Neville. You’re always trying to do the next right thing like your father, and you wouldn’t lead a girl on, but some girls want to be led on. I certainly don’t understand it, but I was the same as you in my day. Left my fair share of broken hearts before I met your Granda.” She got a twinkle in her eye and sipped her tea again.

Neville went back to chopping the veg for the stew and stirred the lamb in the pot. “Gran, you’ve never told me about anyone but Granda. Whose hearts did you break?”

She laughed. “Jack Travers occupied every Hogsmead weekend all through fifth year, and never got over me until he met Ophelia.”

She told him about her several beaux as he finished the stew, refilling her tea when it ran out. He had no idea his iron-spined Gran had been so popular in her day.

Over dinner, he finally asked, “But, then you met Granda and it was different?”

She patted her mouth with her serviette. “Yes, I felt drawn to him in a way I’d never felt before. Have you done the string charm, my boy?”

He frowned. “Yes. It just goes off into the distance. I can’t seem to follow it.”

She tilted her head in thought. “I’ve not heard that means anything particular. It’s not caught or tangled on anything?”

He shook his head and swallowed. “No. None of the typical tangles we learned in Divination. Just south from the castle and generally west from everywhere else I’ve done it.”

She frowned. “Hmm. Well, it means you’ve at least met her. She must be the one with a tangle.”

He shrugged. “What if I never meet them? I mean, I know I must have met them, or I couldn’t see the string, but what if it just always goes off into the distance and I never get that?”

She patted his hand. “I don’t think that’s likely, my boy.”

He sighed and went back to eating. He had never felt drawn to someone in a different way than anyone else. There were really only the crushes he had on Hermione, Ginny, and Luna. And, none of those had been any more intense than the others. He just really liked being around them. Even liking being around them was not really very much different than how he felt about some of his male friends. Of course, Seamus and Dean were together now. It was unmistakable since he was now without Harry and Ron as a buffer in the dorm.

He sometimes wondered if his soulmate was a bloke. He had found himself sneaking glances at his roommates on occasion in a way that made him feel like he was doing something wrong. But, who could they be? He barely knew anyone outside school and Gran’s friends. He had been able to see his string for a couple of years, so he had clearly met them, but it could be anyone.

He was lost in thought until Gran took his bowl from the table before him. “Best to just let whatever will happen happen. Don’t fret. You’ll find her.”

He nodded and looked up at her. “I’m sure. I’m just worried it means one of us will die before we get together. It’s an awful mess at school. What if I make the Carrows so mad one day, they just AK me?”

Gran pursed her lips. “You’ve got to stay strong, Neville. You’ll make it out. I know you’ll find a way, my boy. You’re like your father and Granda.”

Neville felt a surge of pride. He kept that pride through the raiding of the Hogwarts Express the next day, when Death Eaters stopped the train.

As they heard a commotion in the passageway, Luna fixed her silver gaze on him. “I’ll be fine, Neville. Our string won’t break yet. Don’t worry.”

Several men in ornate masks and all black robes with hoods burst into the compartment before Neville could even parse what she had said. He tried to fight them off with every offensive and defensive spell he knew, but was quickly locked in a full-body bind. They also did a full-body bind to Ginny, but she fought through it with some especially strong wandless magic, so they simply stupefied her next. Neville only managed to Finite his bindings after they had pulled Luna away and the train began to move again.

Luna had not even tried to fight them off. She had done nothing to try to get away. She had just sat serenely until they pulled her from her seat, stole her wand, and bound her tightly before taking her away. She turned back and smiled at him as she was pushed out of the compartment.

As the next few months passed, Neville worried about Luna more than he thought usual. He found himself pulled to her, somehow. How had he not felt this for her before? And, why had she chosen _that_ moment to tell him they shared a string?! Of all the bloody times?!

Ginny became increasingly targeted by Snape and the Carrows. She looked truly scared for the first time he could remember after one especially bad detention at the beginning of March.

He had become adept at the anti-swelling charms that could help with the black eyes and head bumps that came with thrashing through the Cruciatus. She had gotten it from Crabbe and Goyle today, and they had gotten good at picking up where the other left off so there was no gap between bouts of torture. Neville was trying to master the anti-convulsive charm Madam Pomfrey had taught him, murmuring _cessabit_ , _cessabit_ , _cessabit_ as he touched his wand to each muscle group in turn.

“I don’t think I’m going to come back after the Easter hols.” Ginny was staring straight ahead, looking like she might cry.

Neville nodded. “Probably best.”

She took a shaky breath in. “I’m so worried about him, Neville. What if he’s already fucking dead? I think about it all the time.” She looked at him with tears rolling down her face. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. They think I know where he is. They ask me questions when I’m coming out of it, screaming at me to tell them about him. What he was doing at the Ministry, what he’s planning.”

He nodded and pulled her into a hug. “I know. It’s okay. If he was dead, they wouldn’t ask you about him. He’s just finishing whatever Dumbledore had him doing last year. And, Hermione and Ron are with him, right? They won’t let him die. Hermione is the smartest person we know, and Ron would fuck up anyone who tried to touch either of them.”

Ginny laughed and leaned into his side. “He is a fucking Weasley.” She looked up at him. “Are you worried about Luna? What did she say before she was taken, about your string?”

Neville shook his head and pulled away to continue doing _cessabit_ on her still-trembling hands. “Uh, I didn’t really understand it. If she’s my soulmate, it doesn’t seem like the time or way to tell me that, you know? I don’t want to talk about it, honestly.”

She shrugged, which caused more twitching in her neck. “Yeah. I won’t say anything to anyone about it…”

He nodded and continued his ministrations.

After the Easter holiday, Ginny did not return, as she had said. But, Neville did see a new face of sorts in the school.

Draco Malfoy returned from the Easter holiday looking like a fucking adult. They had heard something happened at the Manor the prior week. Lee’s resistance show had given what little information they had - merely that there had been an escape of several prisoners and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was summoned. Neville found himself watching the blondest Slytherin, trying to understand what had made him suddenly so different. He had been watching Draco on and off for years because of Harry, but had lost track of him slightly this year. Draco had been practically a ghost of his former self so far this year, paler than normal and wandering the school in a daze.

But now, Draco seemed to be surveying everything with a keen eye. Neville would sometimes find Draco’s eye fixed on him, especially when Neville spoke against Voldemort in class. Draco would get this odd look in his eye and give the barest nod to the Gryffindor before his usual sneer of a mask shifted into place. Neville began to suspect this was the resistance growing in Draco.

He suggested this to Seamus as he patched up Neville one afternoon. Seamus was convinced this was Neville’s response to the effects of the Cruciatus. But, the more Neville talked about it, the more convinced he felt that he was right. And, Draco was the perfect person to be in the resistance! He could get close enough to Voldemort to do real damage!

But, before Neville could do anything about Draco Malfoy, he had to camp in the Room of Requirement to escape the Carrows, and then the Golden Trio showed up, and the Battle of Hogwarts changed everything.

In the aftermath of the Battle, his Gran brought him home to rest and recuperate from his year. It felt terrible to be so quiet, though. He went back as soon as they received the owl from Professor McGonagall about rebuilding. He could not be idle now. He needed to be _doing_ something. He could not rest. He was suddenly full of every terrible thing that had happened this year, and it was worse when he let himself be still.

He had completely replanted Gran’s garden in a week. It was pristine and he wished his mind could match it. He kept seeing Lavender’s face as she lay in repose in the Great Hall after the battle. He wished he could remember her some other way, but only burying himself in work did anything at all to help.

His first night back, he definitely did something. He barely knew Julia Prescott, but everyone had gotten drunk and he just sort of fell into bed with her. He could not remember much of it the next day, but she was at least smiling and friendly when they woke hungover with nothing to say to each other.

It happened a few more times as May wore on- Neville and Julia got drunk with everyone else, fell into bed for sloppy unfulfilling sex, and were simply polite to each other in the morning. Then, Luna returned to the castle and Neville felt his world turn sideways.

Had she begun to glow somehow? Was this what happened when your soulmate bond was ready? Apparently not, because his string still led to the south, not to her. He found himself trying to be in conversations with her without knowing what to say. She treated him the same as she always had, with serene kindness and strange comments.

May turned into June and he found himself drinking most nights. It was either that or Draughts of Dreamless Sleep, but those made him feel like he had just died for eight hours. He sneaked away to buy firewhiskey from Aberforth several times a week in order to drink himself to sleep every night he could. It seemed to help in both keeping his mind off his own memories in the night, and ignoring the constant nightmares of everyone else in the Great Hall.

Luna came to him at breakfast one Saturday morning. “Hermione looks lonely over there, don’t you think?”

Neville looked across the hall to where Hermione was tucking away her bedroll. She did not look like anything in particular. Just a girl doing a thing. “Uh, I don’t know?” He frowned. “Why?”

She smiled and pushed his hair off his forehead, her fingers grazing his skin and making him feel like she had electricity in her bones. “I just think she looks lonely.”

He caught her hand. “What is this, Luna? What is it?” He searched her face for any sign she felt something for him, even regret.

She looked far away. “Nothing.” She slid away from him and disappeared out the doors to the Entrance Hall.

Neville, of course, watched Hermione for the rest of the day. He kept catching glances of her as they all followed Professor Flitwick’s conducting of their movements around Gryffindor Tower. She did look lonely somehow.

He stocked up on firewhiskey at the Hog’s Head before dinner and passed out half of it after dinner, transfiguring the bottles to look like water canteens. They had taken over a classroom and filled it with the salvaged Gryffindor common room furniture. Hermione was teaching him and Luna how to play Hearts. It was easy enough. He got a bit tipsy, but not as bad as Hermione, and then Luna was gone and Hermione was sitting in his lap for some reason.

He suspected how it would go when they went outside, but then everything about Hermione was a revelation. She was beautiful and alive, and she seemed so excited to be with him specifically. No other girl had said his name nearly this much, or seemed nearly this excited about being with him.

In the morning, he felt more like himself than he had in a month and a half.


	2. Niffler's Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville and Hermione continue their assignations. Luna vaguebooks to Neville about their soul string. Draco arrives for probation with a noticeable change in attitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the nice comments! I'm excited to keep telling this story, from Neville's perspective now.

June 14-20, 1998

The time Neville spent with Hermione felt stolen. Specifically, it felt stolen from Ron and Luna. He saw immediately that they had gotten together. And, Ron apparently found out Neville was shagging Hermione and took it upon himself to have a short shovel talk with Neville about it. Neville gave the shovel talk right back to Ron about Luna, though, so he considered that they were probably even with regard to sleeping with each others’ girls.

Luna actually spent more time with him now that they were seeing other people. Although, as he repeatedly told himself, he was not exactly dating Hermione. They could see whoever they wanted, according to the terms of the friendly sex they agreed they were having. Luna kept fixing him with penetrating stares at every meal. He still felt drawn to her, but he was having more and more trouble understanding why. They had so little to talk about. He did not believe in three quarters of the things she wanted to talk about, and she had no interest in real plants, or the muggle mystery novels he was borrowing from Seamus.

Hermione disappeared for two nights for Draco Malfoy’s trial. Harry owled them at the castle to tell them they had to be nice to Hermione about her hair. Apparently, this was on threat of physical violence from Ginny. His exact phrase had been ‘she’ll hex your bollocks off’, but they had also been given the exact language to use to tell Hermione her hair looked nice. Seamus and Dean went for the creepy version they had seen in a muggle horror movie that Seamus assured Dean Hermoine would laugh about.

Neville’s breath caught in his throat when he first saw her at lunch with her short hair. She looked incredible, like the adult version of the girl he grew up with. He found himself practicing how to say it his own way all afternoon, helping Professor Sprout with inventorying the Herbology supplies and sorting through the detritus they were keeping in Greenhouse Four. It was a huge mess that had been increasing as things that belonged outside were found inside the castle with the cleanup and rebuilding effort.

“What are you saying, Longbottom? You’re chanting something. Do I need to get you to Pomfrey?” Professor Sprout was always a bit more gruff than necessary, and it had only gotten worse this summer.

“No, I’m fine, Professor. Just practicing something I need to say later. I need to get it just right.” Neville hoped that would satisfy her curiosity. He did not want to talk about girls with his teacher.

She scoffed. “Just say it, Longbottom. Shouldn’t have to practice! Morgana’s hat, I’ll never understand.”

They went back to calling out numbers of supplies as they found them. They stacked the inventoried items neatly on one end to differentiate from the morass of clutter piled from the other end. They found what Professor Sprout called a “riding lawnmower”, which was apparently something Mr Filch needed to keep the grass tidy. Neither of them understood how it had gotten into the greenhouse at all. It was a mystery for another day.

After dinner, Neville whispered his lines into Hermione’s ear and it led to sex in a disused classroom where she sat on a desk and pulled him into her with her legs hooked behind his back. She was so beautiful, and she seemed to need him so much. He thought of the smell of mimbulus mimbletonia sap to prolong his stamina with her. He just wanted to make her scream his name with that stuttering breath that meant he had given her an orgasm. She seemed to especially like his fingers inside her. That gave him the sweetest number of syllables when his name spilled from her lips. She seemed to also enjoy sucking his cock best when the sex focused on him. They often just did those parts and skipped the need for the contraceptive spell entirely, which was a refreshing change.

After the first night back, though, Hermione seemed different for the rest of the week. She kept reading a letter she kept in her pocket. Neville wondered if it was something about her parents. He knew she was still struggling with them needing to be sent away during the war, but had nothing beyond that.

Ron and Luna were fully together now. Ron kept referring to Luna as his girlfriend when Hermione was out of earshot. Neville would shoot Luna a Look whenever it happened, and she always just stared back at him serenely.

Friday night, he finally confronted her before the weekend drinking began. He caught her leaving the Great Hall. “Luna, can we talk?”

She nodded, her radishes swinging slightly. They went out to sit in the overgrown grass overlooking the lake as the sun slowly dipped lower.

“I’ve been wondering something since the train after Christmas, Luna. What did you mean about our string?”

She sighed. “I meant it wouldn’t break yet. I try to say things as specifically as possible most of the time.”

“But, if we have a string, what are you doing with Ron?”

She looked at him in the golden light. She looked like she was shining from within. “I’m trying to make everyone happy.”

Neville rubbed his face with both hands and kept in a groan of frustration. “Please, Luna, I don’t understand. Do you and I have a soul bond?”

She nodded slowly.

“Then why are you with RON?!” Neville could feel his voice go a little shrill. “Soulmates are supposed to be TOGETHER!”

She bit her lip and looked uncertain for the first time he had ever seen. She looked out across the lake, still shining. “If I told you, it would ruin everything. This summer is when it all happens.”

She looked at him and stated, “You’re with Hermione.”

His stomach dropped. “Because every time I’ve tried to flirt with you, you talk about things that aren’t real! And, Hermione acts like she wants to be around me. But, if you wanted me at all, I would be with you!” He had not thought about this issue in such stark terms before. He felt like he was betraying Hermione somehow, but that was crazy. They were just shagging because they liked it.

Luna got a strange look on her face then, a sort of permanent eye roll that made her look terrifying in the rays of the sunset. “Neville Longbottom, we cannot be. And, there is another and another.” A tear fell from her eye, sparkling unnaturally in the light.

She shook her head hard and shuddered, sending her radishes swinging violently. She wiped the tear away, the sparkling spreading across her cheek before disappearing.

Neville’s eyes were wide. “Bloody hell, what was that?”

She looked away and sighed, shaking her head slightly again. “I can’t tell you yet, Neville.” She frowned again. “It’s not time yet.”

She got up from the grass and walked back to the castle.

That had not been how Neville wanted that conversation to go. He had a terrible feeling in his stomach. He put it out of his mind as best he could, getting as drunk as he could stand to.

It was an awful night anyway. He dreamed of Cruciatus- he was on the floor receiving it, then he was the one giving it, then he could see that he was both, then there was Voldemort’s scowling visage and Harry was dead and Lavender was dead, and he was racing toward the snake with the sword with the smell of burning around him and there was a screaming that woke him.

Ron was screaming. Dean was trying in vain to wake him. Neville felt the room spinning very hard around him. He was going to be sick. He barely made it to the toilet when his stomach emptied. Ron had finally woken and was now crying hysterically about not being able to find them.

Neville stumbled back into bed and drank some water. He was freezing despite the warm night. Ron continued blubbering into Dean’s shoulder about being so stupid last fall when he abandoned Harry and Hermione.

Neville cast a quieting spell in his corner and pulled Gran’s afghan around him. Was this what the summer would be? Labor to wear him out, alcohol or sex to calm him down and then hope no one screamed in the night? Bloody hell, that was bleak.

The morning felt like knives trying to stab his eyes. He found some sunglasses and wandered into the hospital wing, fairly certain he was still a touch drunk as the floor kept doing things he did not expect. Madam Pomfrey gave him a Pepper Up potion and it fixed him right up. He ate a mountain of potatoes and toast before the day’s construction began.

This Saturday, they were clearing the rubble and raising and propping up the caved-in Hufflepuff dorm before they affixed it permanently tomorrow. It was a bit creepy to be in the dorm as the ceiling lifted piece by piece. Neville saw Hermione freeze on the way to her spot, and then be led away in a daze by one of the volunteer healers. Had she hurt herself?

A few minutes later, a muffled scream came from above. It was mostly incoherent, but there were occasional points where the scream called out for Harry. Hermione must be having a panic. Neville’s chest ached for her. Shortly, the screams subsided. Everyone looked terrified down here, though.

He looked around at the faces of his fellow volunteers in the half light. There were a few people with tears streaming down their faces, whispering the words of the incantations to themselves as something like a prayer. There were many people who were acting like they were on the verge of tears or screaming, and a few who were simply shaking slightly.

Neville could see that this was on the verge of becoming a disaster. He sent up sparks for Professor Sinistra, the supervisor of the underneath.

Under his breath, he asked, “Have you noticed that everyone is a bit on the verge down here? We should get some help for the temporary supports so we can get these people out of here. It could become really unsafe down here if we lost anyone else...”

Professor Sinistra nodded and looked around. “I’ve been noticing that, too. I’m inclined to agree, Mr Longbottom. I’ll see what we can do.” She went back to her post with her wand to her throat, speaking softly.

A minute later, a small team came through with Professor McGonagall, applying the temporary supports that would hold the ceiling/floor until tomorrow. The workers peeled off from their posts in an order intended to show any places needing additional supports. The whole operation was working like a clock this afternoon, except for the vague panic and fear in everyone’s eyes.

When he finally peeled off from his post, Neville went straight to the medical tent to see if Hermione was alright. Luna was sitting on the floor next to an apparently-sleeping Hermione, holding her hand and eating a pasty.

Luna looked up at him and smiled sadly, then cast the muffliato to encompass them but not Hermione. “She’s going to wake up soon. Are you alright?”

Neville sat on the floor facing her. “Today was rough. Last night was worse. I don’t understand the game we’re playing.” He gestured between them with a sigh. “I just want to stop playing.” He looked into her eyes. She seemed entirely earnest as always. “I like you, Luna. If you’re on the other end of my string, I’ll feel lucky. I just can’t ha-”

Hermione sobbed. Her eyes were open and she stared at nothing. Had she heard? Fuck! He hoped she had not heard him. He absolutely did not want to hurt her.

Neville grabbed the vial marked for her when she woke and pressed it into her hand as she sat up.

Her sob had not been about what he said. She was embarrassed about having a panic attack. He and Luna hugged her and comforted her until she calmed down again.

Then, they were interrupted by Ginny bursting into the small room. “Oy, Hermione, you dead?”

Neville rolled his eyes. Leave it to Ginny to cut to the quick.

Hermione smiled. “Thought I was. Guess not yet…”

Ginny gave a wide smile. “Good. You’ll never guess who’s arrived for his probation a day fucking early.”

Neville cocked an eyebrow. “Draco Malfoy?”

Ginny helped him off the floor. “Of fucking course, Draco Malfoy! They’re putting him in your room with the other Gryffindor boys from your year.” She nudged him as Hermione and Luna left the tent ahead of them. She lowered her voice. “You let me know if he tries anything. Harry and Hermione may think he’s turned over a new leaf, but I’m not so sure, Nev.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why he would try anything. He has every reason to stay on the straight and narrow.”

Ginny snickered. “Well, he’s a fucking Death Eater, that’s all. Their straight and narrow is still shaped like a fucking snake.”

Neville frowned. “I don’t know, Ginny. He seemed really different after the trio were at Malfoy Manor on the Easter hols. He came back to school looking like he could kill the noseless one on his own.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “That’s mental, Nev. There’s no way the Little Death Eater has that in him. I mean, he couldn’t kill Dumbledore. Was he really going to kill Voldo-Tom?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m trying to see the best in someone who doesn’t deserve it. Or, maybe I’m right and he does deserve it. Either way, there’s less hate and mistrust, and I’ll be someone I want to be instead of someone Voldo-Tom thought I should be.”

Pain bloomed from his arm as Ginny punched him. “Fuck you for being right, you poetic fuck.” She ran off ahead of him to join the other two girls.

In the Great Hall, Neville stopped short as he entered. Across the room, talking to Professor McGonagall was Draco Malfoy himself. He looked different from his picture in the Prophet earlier in the week, though. He had gotten a haircut and a shave, and his clothes were not threadbare. All of that was different, but what truly struck Neville was the look in his eyes.

Neville had known many different looks in Malfoy’s eyes. Contempt, suspicion, and annoyance had been most of the first three years of school. Anger, conflict, and contempt had been the next three. And, for the past year, there had been fear, contempt, and righteous anger.

But, now, suddenly, there was no contempt in Draco Malfoy’s eyes. It shone on his face like a beacon. He looked now at McGonagall with respect. As his eyes caught on new things, respect. As he nodded to the few people who gave him friendly looks, respect. As he saw Neville staring at him from across the Hall and gave a small acknowledging wave of his hand, his eyes were clear and brimming with respect.

Neville had not expected this. How could he have expected it? Contempt had been Malfoy’s resting expression, but clearly his face had a new mode as yet unseen.

He found himself sneaking glances at Malfoy throughout dinner and into the weekend drinking time. Malfoy refrained from anything harder than butterbeer, which led Neville to go easy on the liquor tonight, too. He was simply fascinated by watching Malfoy covertly.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten that Malfoy was literally sleeping in the bed next to him until Ron came up beside him and did his best four-drinks-in approximation of a whisper. “What do you reckon? Is he going to try to kill us in our sleep?” He nodded in the direction of Malfoy, who was currently engrossed in conversation with Percy Weasley, of all people.

Neville frowned, gazing at Malfoy and still seeing none of the previous contempt in his eyes. “I don’t think so. He seems really different.”

Ron scoffed, spitting his butterbeer slightly. “What, you’ve jumped on the ‘he’s just been misunderstood’ thing, too?” He waved his hands wildly, sloshing his beer from its bottle and drawing attention to them.

Neville got up and vanished the spilled beer, taking the nearly empty bottle from Ron. “No, not misunderstood, just different now. Just like the rest of us, Ron.”

Ron scowled and crossed his arms like a child who had been chastised. “Mm not different.”

Neville rolled his eyes. He was not going to have this particular conversation with Ron while the other man was drunk. “Okay. I’m going to go brave falling asleep in a room next to him. I’m sure McGonagall will give you a tent if you can’t live with Malfoy.”

And, he did fall asleep, quite easily. He never heard anyone else come in, but Sunday morning, there in the bed next to him were the half-drawn curtains through which a blond head peeked. Malfoy had slept without a shirt and pushed off all his covers in the night. His sectumsempra scar was a mix of angry purple and red across his upper chest.

In sleep, he struck Neville as simply beautiful. As soon as the thought occurred to him, he pushed it away. That was a mad thought.

He noticed that Ron’s bed had not been slept in. Where had Ron gone, then? Probably somewhere with Luna. He dressed quickly and went down to read the Prophet over a leisurely cup of coffee.

Sure enough, Ron and Luna wandered into breakfast with rumpled clothes from the day before. Ron clocked Neville and made a beeline to the other side of the room. Neville could not understand any of this. Why Ron, of all the guys here this summer? And, why fucking not Neville himself?!

Hermione appeared soon after the couple, smiling and looking much improved from her mood the day before. She sat down across from him and began her morning ritual of slathering a baguette with butter and taking delicate bites as she sipped her coffee and read the Prophet. Neville found himself staring mesmerised at the exactness of her motions and shook his head to clear it.

Malfoy entered the Great Hall to a collective sharp intake of breath from the populace. He seemed to note it, and wandered over to where Bill, Fleur, and Percy sat by themselves as Fleur had waved him over. As Malfoy made his way to their table, a soft hiss seemed to follow him with angry stares.

Hermione had been roused from her paper and followed Malfoy’s movement across the room. “Doesn’t the Wizengamot’s decision mean anything? Doesn’t Harry’s vouching for him mean anything?”

Neville frowned. “I think it’s still early days. Give them time to see what you see, Hermione.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t still think he’s bad, do you, Neville?”

Neville looked at Malfoy. He was gently eating a pile of eggs, bacon, and toast, serviette laid in his lap, just so. He was listening to Bill, who had an intense look on his face and gestured in a way Neville recognised from his cursebreaking stories. Malfoy still had that new look of respect in his eyes.

“No, I think he’s really different than he used to be. I’m glad. Can you imagine trying to work with the bully he used to be?”

Hermione shook her head. “That would just be dangerous.”

Harry and Ginny entered the hall then and came to sit with them, ending their conversation about Malfoy.


	3. Clover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville confronts Ginny about her judgmental attitude. Harry finds Neville doing something dangerous. Luna pushes the wrong buttons whilst vaguebooking at Neville about their connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday's update will be a side story, the first chapter of Ron's perspective. 
> 
> Stay safe out there, friends, and remember, Trans Women are Women, Black Lives Matter, ACAB, and Wear Your Mask When You Go Outside.

June 22-28, 1998

Draco Malfoy’s first week of probation was fascinating to watch. He was never timid, but he always deferred to others on every decision. He showed up on time, but not early, for everything. And, he looked exhausted at the end of every day.

After a conversation with Hermione Sunday night, Neville was convinced Draco liked her, and he was nearly convinced she liked Draco back. Why else would Draco tease her the way he had, and why else would she lose it and go off to be alone?

The Headmistress paired Neville with Draco and Dean for rebuilding several balconies that week. Draco was outside on his broom for large parts of the construction, and Neville marvelled at how good he was at the complex levitation and wandwork while holding himself perfectly still in midair. He looked like the cover of one of Gran’s romance novels come to life.

Neville found himself distracted and staring at Draco much of the time. He somehow never messed anything up, or came back to himself at embarrassing moments, but he found he was fascinated by how Draco’s entire countenance was transformed.

Draco’s jaw was well defined now. It would never be really rugged with its aristocratic lines, but it was definitely the jawline of a man now, not a boy. Along with the new look in his eyes, Draco also had the same remnants of stress visible in everyone these days. How had his nose become both less and more pointed? And, how had this all happened without Neville noticing before? Draco had only been in Azkaban for six weeks. How had he changed so much in that time?

As the week wore on and more balconies were rebuilt, the three men fell into a building routine that worked quite well. They were joined by Seamus for lunches outside in the sun and the Irishman had the most amazing talent for bringing them all into the conversation. Neville learned that Draco’s mother was nearly a Master of Herbology. He learned that Dean’s father loved movies, and that his parents had met because his muggle mother made glasses and his father had needed some for the first time in his twenties.

In the afternoons when they finished their assigned work, the team of three men would do general rubble clearing, making neat piles and rows of stone along the walls. There were always more classrooms and rooms to straighten. Half the staircases were still broken, making the upper floors complicated to navigate.

The weekend’s work party took on an odd energy. Something was going on with Hermione that Neville could not find a way to talk to her about. It was not just that she had that odd panic in the hospital. It felt like she was pulling away from everyone, especially after she fought with Harry. She had not reappeared after her chat with Draco and Neville in the common room, and Neville was worried that something had happened.

Neville asked Ginny if she knew anything before anyone else arrived for dinner on Saturday night. “Is something wrong with Hermione? She seems like she’s coming apart at the seams.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Mum just said she needs to talk to her after dinner. I think she’s just overreacting to everything this week.”

Neville frowned. They had not been alone since Sunday, which itself was odd. Was it Wednesday she missed work entirely? Had something specific happened? “Did something happen? It’s not like her to be skiving off work like this. What happened Wednesday?”

Ginny frowned. “I don’t know. She was like, crying in the night and then slept into the afternoon.” She raised an eyebrow. “My question is, how did Malfoy know that? He’s the one who told McGonagall she wasn’t feeling well when she didn’t show for construction that morning.”

That had not occurred to Neville. Draco had gone down to Hogsmead for the afternoon and was not back yet, which Neville had noticed the same as he had noticed when Hermione was off work. “Maybe they ran into each other that night?”

Ginny twitched an eyebrow. “Maybe. Maybe he was a git again and said something to her. I know you’ve been working with him this week, but that’s not the real Malfoy. You know he can’t have changed that much, right? He’s just doing the Slytherin thing where they do what they need to survive.”

Neville felt anger rising in himself. “I don’t know he hasn’t changed, Ginny. And you don’t, either. Have you had a fucking conversation with him? He’s different. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ginny rolled her eyes and looked like she was getting fired up to start on something new. “No, I’m done listening to this. If you took a minute to actually look at him NOW instead of remembering how he USED to be, you might change your mind.” He got up abruptly, his dinner unfinished. “I’m done defending him if you won’t even get your own opinion separate from Ron’s. We’re all fucking different now, Ginny.”

Ginny’s mouth was open as he turned and walked away, passing Harry and Mrs Weasley on his way out. He needed a drink. What was the point of the trials if people were just going to continue being tried by society for the rest of their lives?

He holed up in a ruined classroom drinking straight from the bottle and making neat lines of rubble long into the evening. Harry came to find him at some point after the sun had gone down.

“Neville? It’s dangerous to do work alone, mate.”

Neville turned and leaned on a large chunk of wall as he found he was a touch dizzy just now. “‘S fine. Mm good at this.”

Harry frowned and looked around at the concentric circles of rubble surrounding Neville. “Uh, sure. Ginny told me you got angry and stormed off? Because she’s worried Draco’s an arse?”

Neville snorted. “Hmm. Is that what she told you? Nothing about how, about how I told her, you know, she can’t see he’s changed cuz she doesn’t want to see it? Because no one, no one wants to move on from their, their prejudices?” He took a swig from the bottle. “Because that’s what I told her. That she should have a fucking CONVERSATION with him and, you know, see for herself he’s not, he’s not the same arsehole he’s been.” He gestured wildly. “But, no… Fucking WEASLEYS won’t forgive anyone, will they? Weasleys just want to believe, you know, no one can be different now from how they were yesterday?”

Harry marched forward and grabbed the bottle from Neville’s hand. “You’ve had enough, mate. You know that’s not all the Weasleys. And, Ginny must have taken what you said to heart. She’s trying to talk to him now.”

Neville felt something inside him crack. “Really?”

Harry nodded. “It’s the most awkward discussion of Quidditch team lineups I’ve ever seen, but she’s trying. Draco just looks terrified. She’d punched him in the arm about four times that I saw, but they were Ginny friend punches.”

Neville frowned and furrowed his brow. “So, d’you reckon she sees he’s new?”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, she may be my girlfriend, but I don’t have any idea, Nev. Girls don’t make any sense to me.” He tilted his head a little and sighed. “Speaking of girls, what the fuck is going on with Hermione, mate? She just lost it on me today. Bunch of shite about how I don’t pay attention to what she’s going through? And then that it’s good she doesn’t have to do my homework anymore?”

Neville snickered and tried to snatch the bottle back with no success. “Maybe she’s got a point? I don’t know what you three went through, but I can’t imagine you suddenly learned how to listen in the middle of it.” He gave up on trying to get the bottle back and thought instead of the further bottles he had stashed in his belongings. “Didn’t you notice she never went home starting sixth year? Or how everyone would be dead without her? And everything Dumbledore and McGonagall did to make her responsible for everyone else?”

Harry’s face was screwed up in confusion. “She was right?”

Neville snorted and felt himself choke on something trying to come back up. “Yeah. When is she ever wrong, MATE?”

“Ugh, do I sound like that when I say mate?”

Neville shook his head. “Not usually. Just when you’re trying to keep me from my whiskey.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

Neville staggered slightly then, for no particular reason.

“Was this bottle full when you started tonight?”

He shrugged.

“Hmm. Let’s get you some water and bed, yeah?”

Neville scowled. “Fine.”

They made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower and Harry said the password to let them in through the portrait hole. A small party was in full swing and Seamus had everyone singing a drinking song. Ron and Luna were draped around each other in one chair insufficient to the job.

Neville was surprised to see Ginny and Draco sitting beside each other with their glasses raised at the right point in the song. Draco raised a hand in acknowledgment of Harry and Neville’s entrance. Ginny smiled and nodded at Neville.

Harry mumbled in Neville’s ear. “Probably best to skip any more drinking tonight, Nev.”

Neville scowled again. “Yes, gran…” He left to go stumble up the stairs. Fuck Harry for making him leave, but he was feeling quite sleepy now.

The next morning, Neville’s entire head hurt and he had the worst feeling in his mouth. He vaguely recalled getting up to vomit at some point. He needed another potion to kick the hangover, so he made his way to the hospital wing again and received the scrutiny of Madam Pomfrey.

“Mr Longbottom, I’m concerned about how much Pepper Up you’re requesting lately.”

She was not saying it with judgment, just concern, but Neville could not handle anyone else’s feelings about his potion use this morning. “I’m fine.”

She frowned. “I can always give Dreamless Sleep for help with that.”

Neville scowled. “It wasn’t for sleeping.”

“Calming Draught, then?”

His jaw clenched. He could not be on a potion for everything. “Don’t like either, Madam.”

She sighed and gave him the vial of Pepper Up. “Please be careful, Neville.”

Neville knocked back the vial and handed it back as the steam burst from his ears, clearing his head. “Sure thing, Madam.”

At lunch that day, Hermione announced she was leaving for the Burrow indefinitely. Neville tried to get her alone all afternoon to ask her what was going on, but Luna just stayed with them in the library forever. Every time Neville started to talk about how Hermione was doing, Luna would interject some nonsense and Hermione would be distracted by it. Eventually he gave up on trying to talk to Hermione and just buried himself in destroyed books, looking for anything that might be interesting to Hermione in her self-imposed exile, or whatever this was.

After dinner, Hermione hugged them all and walked out of the Great Hall, taking all the light with her. Neville turned on Luna when everyone else had gone back to their own conversations. His voice came out more of a growl than he liked, but he was having trouble being calm right now. “What is going on? You wouldn’t let me be alone with her before she left?”

Luna took a bite of lemon tart and nodded but said nothing.

His voice was softly bitter in her ear. “She’s the only one who wants me. You won’t have me, but you won’t let me be close to her, either? Fucking hell, why, Luna?”

She took another bite of tart and looked pointedly at the door to the Great Hall where Draco was now entering, hands shoved into his pockets and a strange sort of smile on his face. She swallowed the tart and looked into Neville’s eyes. “I wonder if she’s really the only one.”

Neville followed Draco’s movement across the room to where he sat down at the professors’ table and seemed to make pleasant conversation with them, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

Luna had continued eating her lemon tart. When Neville’s attention finally strayed from Draco, she smiled at him. “Hermione is certainly not the only one you pay attention to, Neville Longbottom.”

Neville frowned and lowered his voice. “Yeah, I pay quite a lot of attention to you, too, Luna.”

She shook her head and came close to frowning.

He dropped his voice even further. “Yes, I do. I keep trying to understand, Luna. Why won’t you have me? You know I’d be good to you. You must know it. What am I supposed to do?”

Luna put her hand on his cheek and shook her head. “It’s not time yet, Neville Longbottom.”

Neville pulled her hand away, suddenly angry again. “I don’t know what the fuck that is supposed to mean, Luna. If you don’t want me, just tell me. Just sever the string. Do something, say something, don’t just keep kicking the can down the road. It’s not fair to me, Luna.”

She stared straight into his eyes. “It’s not time yet, Neville Longbottom.”

He felt the scream that wanted to escape and got up from the table with a clatter of cups and plates. He could feel the eyes of everyone remaining in the Hall on him as he stormed out. He went all the way out of the castle and did not stop walking until he was up to his knees in the lake.

Neville finally let the scream come out of him. He could feel it leaving from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. It was full of fear and anger and anxiety that had no words.

And, when it was finally all gone, he stumbled backward, landing on his arse in the grass, the tears filling the place that the scream vacated. He cried like he had not cried since the night after the Battle when his grandmother brought him home and made his favorite soup in the ruins of their kitchen. 

He cried for losing Hermione. He cried for whatever was happening with Luna. He cried for being such an arsehole to Madam Pomfrey this morning. He cried for misjudging Ginny about Draco. He cried for Draco, just all of Draco. And, Neville cried for himself, for everything that he had gone through last year, for everything he had not been able to do or say, for what he had needed to do for himself and everyone else. He cried until there were no more tears and he had done the handkerchief spell about ten times.

He returned to the castle and avoided everyone for the rest of the night, holing up in his room with another of the muggle mysteries. He found a new bottle of Firewhiskey and transfigured it into a canteen, vowing to drink less than he had last night.

It worked. Neville awoke Monday morning with only a quarter of the canteen gone and a hangover requiring only coffee and a mountain of sausage and eggs. It was a small victory.


	4. Rowan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville learns something interesting about his soul string, learns how Draco currently sees their friendship, then does some drunk gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late, but I'll be back on schedule with another chapter tomorrow. :)

June 29-July 1, 1998

The first week that Hermione was gone, the work groups were reshuffled, putting Ginny in a team with Neville and Draco. They made an unexpectedly great team. Neville discovered that Ginny paid quite a bit more attention to detail than he previously thought. And, now that she had come to terms with the difference in Draco’s character, she was teasing him with the same friendly aggression as the rest of their friends.

It was Wednesday of that week that Neville witnessed a panic attack in the daylight for the first time.

On a break that afternoon, Ginny had taken Neville up to the newly-accessible seventh floor to “test something”. She was being so fucking cagey about it that Neville was getting really worried by the time they arrived on the still-hole-riddle floor.

“Okay, Nev. Now, cast your _Ostende Filum_.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “Why? It just always goes off to the south.”

She clapped him on the back. “Just trust me. Cast it.”

He took a breath and did the swirling wandwork. “ _Ostende Filum_!”

The invisible red string was everywhere. Piled and tangled everywhere. _Piled_. Soul string was never piled. “What the hell?”

Ginny clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “Fuck yes! It’s you, too! And, you’ll be with Luna, like she said on the train. Hers is all over up here, too!”

Neville felt faint. What the fuck was all of this soul string doing up here? And, Luna’s was doing the same thing?

He ended the charm and the corridor was empty again. “We need to get back now.”

Ginny nodded and began babbling about what it could mean as they made their way back to a confused-looking Draco. Neville was still dazed from the excursion until Draco began gasping for breath.

“Draco? What’s wrong?” Neville stood in front of the blond man. “What’s wrong? Is it your head?” He knew Draco had been having weird headaches, but this was a bit of a stab in the dark since he had no idea how breathing weirdly could be a headache thing.

Draco did not seem to see Neville. He could not seem to draw breath. Neville guided him to sit on the floor so at least if he lost consciousness, they would not have to catch him.

Once on the floor, Draco seemed to be able to breathe because he started mumbling under his breath and slowly gained volume. “... No… Got to… No… No… No, Vince, No!! Get out! Run! No! Potter! No!”

Neville could see Eloise Munchen down the hall staring at them and he cast a spell without thinking. “Stupefy!”

Draco slumped over entirely, all the tension leaving his body as the spell hit.

Ginny punched Neville in the arm harder than her normal friendly punches. “What the fuck, Neville?! You don’t know what that’ll do to him! Fucking reverse it!”

Neville had frozen in fear and pain and could not remember the way to reverse Stupefy. Was it just a Finite, or was it one of the ones with a specific counter-hex?

Ginny huffed and pointed her wand at Draco’s hunched form. “Stupefinity!” She turned her wand on Neville. “Fix him, arse!”

After ascertaining he was alright enough to be moved, Neville supported Draco to the hospital wing. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey did not think the Stupefy had done anything additional to his panic attack. Under Ginny’s fuming gaze, Neville stayed as close as was polite, then helped Draco back to the common room to rest while Ginny went to tell McGonagall what happened.

Draco seemed less than upset about his panic attack now that he was on the Calming Draught. He told Neville about how he was writing to Hermione. “You two are close. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you. Have you written to her, yet?”

Neville chewed his lip. “No, I’m not sure she wants to hear from me. And, I don’t know what I’d say anyway. I don’t have anything going on that isn’t just, oh, we did construction today, oh, I played chess with Dean, oh I read some more Agatha Christie.”

They entered the portrait hole and Draco pulled the door closed behind them. “I really like her stuff. Poirot is really fun, how his inspector gets so cranky when he can’t figure out what’s going on.”

Neville smiled. “I never knew how to pronounce his name. Say it again?”

Draco got a little smirk and turned to face him. “Pwahroh.”

Neville nodded. “Pwahroh.” He sighed. “I thought it was just like it’s spelled. Poy-rot.”

Draco clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Never had any French, I guess?”

He shook his head. “No. Gran isn’t exactly worldly.”

Draco looked far away for a second. “I wonder if the property in Rhone is Mother’s or Father’s.”

Neville felt quite small and decidedly unworldly now and it must have shown on his face.

Draco frowned and waved his hands in a nixing gesture. “No, no, I didn’t mean to brag or something. I’m sorry. I was just thinking, if you ever wanted to visit France and it’s Mother’s property, it’s quite beautiful and she loves to host.” He sighed. “Not that you need a handout or something.” He put his hand to his forehead. “Fuck. Just, we seem to be friendly now? And if you ever want to go to France, please know you have somewhere to stay, if you want…”

Neville watched the many expressions pass over Draco’s face as he tried to fix what he was saying. “Calming Draught making your composure slip, Slytherin?” He quirked an eyebrow at Draco.

“Beautiful Bint of Morgana, yes, that’s got to be it.” Draco laughed. “I’m too calm!”

Neville laughed. “Better go confess all to Hermione, then. Keep her interested?”

Draco’s eyes went wide then. “Oh, Merlin, what haven’t I been confessing to Hermione? She’s been writing to me every day. But, I’m only allowed to write every three days.”

Neville felt a tightness in his chest. “Weird.”

“Is she usually so expressive? I like it, but I’m not used to people just spilling their guts to me like this. I don’t know what to do.” Draco looked excited and a little scared.

Neville shrugged. “Maybe just respond in kind? She must want to hear from you. She didn’t set up any terms for me writing to her.” He suddenly felt like he was giving Draco advice on how to not fuck up the way he had fucked up with Hermione. “I’ve got to go. Just remembered I have my own letter to write to Gran…”

Draco frowned. “Okay, see you later?”

Neville gave a thumbs-up and went upstairs. He collected his most recent canteen of whiskey and a quill and parchment and went outside to a patch of shade by the greenhouses. He took a long draw off the canteen and savored the first burning swallow. Why did no one seem to just want him? And, why Ron Weasley? He took another long drink, almost choking with the burn. This summer was too much. No wonder Hermione had escaped. But now she was writing to Draco?! She had barely talked to Draco while she was here and now she was writing to him every day?

He could not sit still. He went to Greenhouse One and let himself in. This was the only currently functioning greenhouse. Professor Sprout had set up half the space with seedlings on tables to restart some lesson plantings for the next school year, and the rest of the space with what plants had been salvaged from the other greenhouses. Neville set himself to tending the plants in the ground. There were a few of the blood-thirsty plants that had gained strength and begun creeping toward the peaceful ones, so he set up a few wood planks and markers as a fence to make their siege a bit harder.

And, Neville drank as he worked into the cool of the evening. He set up a defensive perimeter for the peaceful plants to keep them safe. This was what should have happened with the war. The adults should have truly insulated them from the encroaching threats.

He thought of Harry, dead in Hagrid’s arms, then alife and locked in that strange magic that killed Voldemort. Had Harry ever really been dead? They all talked about it like he had really died and come back, but it was not really clear.

How close had Neville been to being the subject of the prophecy instead? Just a day and a breath, really. After the Department of Mysteries, Neville had wondered at how wishy-washy prophecy could be. He was so profoundly not the Boy-Who-Lived, but he kept coming back to the idea that it could have been all on him. And, for fifteen minutes in that courtyard, it _had been_ all on him. And, for the prior eight months at school, it had felt like everyone needed him. It had felt wonderful and terrible to be seen as a leader. To be seen.

He lay down in the aisle beside a bed of fuzzy fern tendrils. They reached out to him and touched his face and arm. He stretched his hand into the fronds and they curled around his fingers, trembling slightly. He knew they were just trying to reach for his magic, but it still felt nice to be reached for. As the thought occurred to him, he took another swig from the canteen.

When would all of this stop feeling so immediate and so terrible?


	5. Thistle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville witnesses an interesting confrontation between Draco and George, then has a series of confusing revelations at breakfast with Ginny. Luna vaguebooks at Neville about their soul bond, leading to a memorable conversation with Draco. Neville stands up to Gran, leading to a pleasant tea with the Headmistress. Finally, Draco and Neville go for a relaxing drink under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been feeling especially unfocused this week from work and the world. 
> 
> If you haven't checked out the first chapter of Sight and Other Altered States, I'd like to recommend it to you. Chapter 1 is about the night Ron and Luna got together, and it's just a fluffy bit of fun.

July 5-11, 1998

Neville understood now what Draco was always scribbling in his spare moments, and Merlin’s beard, was he ever prolific writing to Hermione. Weirdly, it seemed half the common room was writing to Hermione that week. But, Neville had received nothing from her? She must not want to hear from him, so he made his peace as best he could.

Then, Sunday morning, George Weasley appeared at the castle with Molly and Arthur. He was not taking part in the actual construction on the flooded Slytherin dorm, but did act as the attendant at the refreshment station in the hall with a house elf Neville did not recognise.

At lunch, George sat down with Neville, Bill, and Draco at one of the tables set up on the lawn. He said nothing until halfway through his pasty when he suddenly stared hard at Draco. “Could very easily threaten you, Malfoy.”

Draco froze and swallowed his bite before his mask slipped back into place. “You could, yes.”

“It would probably piss off Hermione, though.” George cocked an eyebrow.

Draco nodded solemnly. “Probably.”

Bill frowned. “How is Hermione? She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to enjoy the quiet country life.”

Draco was chewing his lip slightly, clearly wanting to say how she was, but not wanting to give away his intimate knowledge. George was still staring oddly at the blond man. “She’s much better since the panic attack she had yesterday morning after the mail came.”

Draco’s face seemed to lose the tan he had gotten the past two weeks and his calm mask slipped entirely, eyes wide and mouth twisted in pain. He lurched toward George. “Is she alright? Did she take her potion to help? George?”

Then George’s face changed entirely, softening his jaw and eyes. “Yes, she’s fine. Splinched her ear a touch, but we found it. She’s fine, Draco. I think she’s bored, and she always wants to talk about feelings, but fine.”

Draco was still on the edge of his seat, panic in his eyes. “Fine?”

Bill was entirely confused. “Lots of people have panics right now. Fleur’s been looking into it and it seems to be common after trauma in muggles. They have some acronym for it I can never remember.”

George nodded, still holding eye contact with Draco. “That’s it. But she’s working on things, I guess. Been getting letters from all sorts of corners…”

Draco took a shaky breath and nodded. “She’s been writing to me, but I didn’t know she’s still having panic attacks since she left.”

George finally looked back down at his pasty and took a big bite. “She’ll be fine. Just don’t hurt her…”

Draco gulped and Neville saw true fear in his eyes for the first time this summer. His voice came out a whisper. “I wouldn’t… I’m sorry”

Then a woman with hair that shone like a beacon in the midday sun appeared from around the side of the castle and Draco’s face changed entirely again when he saw her. A new mask slipped into place on Draco’s face that was reminiscent of only Lucius Malfoy.

“Please give my regards to Hermione. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go speak to my mother.” Draco slid gracefully from his seat and went to meet Narcissa. She kissed him on the cheek and gestured to their table with an odd smile. Draco shook his head and held out his arm to her. She took it and he led her away toward the back of the castle.

George scoffed. “I guess we’re not fancy enough for her royal highness.”

Bill smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Maybe he wanted to spare us, Georgie-boy? He’s a bit different now than I’d heard for years.”

Neville smiled and gestured to the two of them. “So, this is where Ginny gets her violent nature from?”

Bill laughed, his scars crinkling into his laugh-lines. “Probably. She’s rather more extreme than I ever was, though.”

Monday morning, Draco left for what might be a week of his father’s trial. That day, Neville worked all day in the still-cluttered greenhouses with Professor Sprout. In the early afternoon, she gave a short shout and Neville went running for where she was. Her hand had a nasty gash and she was clutching a shard of pot, staring at the blood.

“Professor?” Neville reached out and took her hand in his. She did not react, seemingly elsewhere. “Professor Sprout? Where are you?”

She looked at him then, shaking her head slightly. “Longbottom. So sorry.” She looked like she might cry and through her hand, Neville could feel a tremble coming on.

“Can you drop the shard, Professor?” She was still bleeding, and now _on him_.

She looked at her hand and let out an odd sort of whimper but dropped the shard.

Oh, Neville could see bone. This was really bad, a sort of jagged puncture. He did the charm to temporarily stop her bleeding before ushering her gently out of the greenhouse. She never fully broke into tears as they walked over to the hospital wing. Neville felt like he did when he visited his parents. He was the adult for as long as it took and it was exhausting.

Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey took Professor Sprout from his care and commended him for the quick thinking to stop the bleeding. He was, of course, rather covered in blood himself now, though. He must have touched his face with his bloody hand at some point, because when he turned to leave the hospital wing, he saw himself reflected in the glass pane of the door as he had been in April, on the run from the Carrows. But, he, too, was definitely different now. He had less of the look of a hero as he stared, and more the look of a sad man covered in blood.

He returned to the dorm for a shower. As the water poured over him, he felt really actually sad for the first time since, oh, before last school year, at least. He had just been acting, doing the next right thing, whatever that was, and it had felt amazing in a fucked up kind of way. He absolutely did not want to go back to the days with the Carrows, but he also wanted to be who he had been with the Carrows.

Neville had been so close to being the person he wanted to be last year, but now he had returned to being his old pathetic self. Just a sad man covered in blood. It was not fair. He could feel tears coming out of him as he stayed under the shower spray. He hated this summer, but he needed to do something, and rebuilding Hogwarts was the only next right thing he could see.

Why had he gotten involved with Hermione? This was nothing like it had been with any of the girls before where it just wore off after a while. This was Hermione, the best woman. He was lucky she had even looked his way.

But then, there was Luna. Fucking Luna and her sparkling tear and the soul bond and how did she know things? He growled. It felt awful how she was toying with him. Why could they not be together? Why? But also, was she right? He wanted her, but he wanted Hermione, too. A tiny part of him held up a finger and ahem-ed Draco’s name, too.

Wait, what?

Neville finally shut off the shower. Best not to think on that one.

Fifteen minutes later, he returned to the cluttered greenhouse and got back to work on inventory and organising. He lost himself in it, which was just what he needed, and had to be fetched to the end of dinner by Ginny’s horse patronus swearing at him.

The next morning, Neville woke early as he had not felt like drinking himself to sleep last night, for some reason. He was grateful that he was one of only three people in the Great Hall when he saw the cover of the Daily Prophet. There were pictures of Hermione and Draco at the Ministry. It was clear something happened between them. Hermione looked like she had when she wanted to be alone with Neville, but she was looking at Draco.

Neville was miserable. It was too early in the day to do any drinking, probably. Also, dangerous to drink and do construction spells. Maybe he could just be sick today. No one seemed to care when people were sick since they were all volunteers. But, if he was sick, he would just have all day to think of them together. Which one of them did he wish he was?

What, seriously? What is that? He wanted to be Hermione, of course!

Wait, no, what? No, he wanted to be Draco to be _with_ Hermione. Right?

But, Hermione gets to be _with Draco_.

He really needed a drink, just ever so badly. Why did he keep thinking of being with Draco? He looked at the moving pictures. Draco’s hair was perfectly coiffed as it had been when he left yesterday morning, and there was a feral quality in his eyes when he stopped that man from entering the lift with them. If Neville had been Hermione, as soon as those doors closed, Draco would have been on him, pulling their chests together, maybe grabbing his arse. But, definitely kissing him. Neville wondered if Draco would have sharp or soft stubble.

Neville stood abruptly, knocking the bench back. Ginny had sat down across from him at some point and arched an eyebrow at him as he stood. He suddenly had no idea what to do with his body.

“Lovebirds got you down, there, Nev?” She crammed a piece of bacon into her maw.

He sat again, on the edge of the bench. He felt like everyone could see what was happening inside him. “Ginny, uh, how are you? Sleep well?”

She slathered butter and jam onto her toast. “Yeah, fine, what the fuck is going on over there?”

Neville shook his head. Quick, change the subject!

“What are you going to do after Hogwarts?”

She pointed her butter knife at him. “No, you first, weird boy.”

He felt his face get hot. “Yeah, you know, reading the paper.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You have a crush on Hermione, don’t you?”

He was definitely hot. How had Ginny not seen that he and Hermione had been shagging? Or, how had Hermione not _told_ her? Weird. “Yeah, you got me.”

She frowned and lowered her voice. “But, Luna?”

Neville sighed. “Yeah, well, she’s more interested in Ron, obviously.”

Her brow furrowed. “Neville, are you okay? Do I need to worry about you?”

He rolled his eyes. “How would you even do that, Gin? You don’t worry about anybody but Harry.”

She frowned again, suddenly looking hurt. “Yes I do, Neville. I worried about all of you when I didn’t come back last year. I worried about you specifically, you brave arse. I was worried I’d hear one day that you’d died, but I’d never know what really happened because of the Carrows.” Tears were close to spilling from her eyes, but she took a giant sniff and wiped them away. “So fuck you, I worry. I worry so much I only have swears for it.” She took a giant bite of toast, talking around it, “Fuck you, I worry.”

Neville put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fuck me, you worry.”

They worked with Dean and Seamus that day on a couple of fourth floor classrooms, then again the next day, and the next. It was oddly boring at the castle with Draco gone. Everyone but Ron agreed Draco was actually really lovely to be around and brought out interesting things in everyone around him.

Thursday afternoon, Ginny flooed down to London to stay a couple of days with Harry and come back at the weekend. She wrote to Neville some time late Thursday night as he received it mid-morning Friday.

> _Dear Neville,  
>  You have been holding out on me! What the fuck!? You didn’t just have a crush on Hermione! You were shagging her! Morgana’s fluffy bush, how did you let her get away? And, to DRACO?! MALFOY?!?!?!!!!  
>  Sorry, maybe that’s insensitive. But, I mean, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Ron and the next thing I tell Draco: You get Hermione, you better be prepared for her. I’m fucking easy going and sweet compared to that woman.  
>  Anyway, it sounded like she still likes you as a friend, which isn’t nothing?  
>  Ugh, sorry again, I’m really rubbish at saying anything useful. Fuck it, she’d be lucky to have you, Nev. Any of them would be lucky to have you. Not me, but any of the other women. Harry for life for this lady.  
>  Did I mention I’ve had quite a lot of butterbeers tonight? There were dinosaurs. Harry and Hermione swear they used to be as real as dragons are, but I’m not convinced. They have museums about dinosaurs! Fuckity why?  
>  By the time you read this, I’ll be sober. We should play video games someday. You should come hang out at Harry’s house and meet the pizza man Harry is obsessed with._
> 
> _-Ginevra Molly Weasley the Third_

It was certainly a letter from Ginny: insensitive, crass, true, and heartfelt.

The tiny part of him stood up and ahem-ed again as he read the letter again at lunch Friday. Or men, said the tiny part of him. Any of the other women or men would be lucky to have him.

That was certainly a thing that the tiny ahem-ing part of him liked to say. But, he also did really like women, being with women. So, what was this?

Luna was staring at him on and off through dinner again that night. She vaguely cornered him as he was leaving to get provisions for the evening. “Neville? Can I talk to you?”

“I was about to head down to the Hog’s Head. I don’t really have time right now, Luna.” Also, he did not want to hear whatever nonsense she was going to try to tell him now.

She seemed to be in something approximating a sensible headspace right now, though, as she looked a touch sad that he had no time to talk. Maybe if she wanted to talk, it would be okay? “You can come with me and carry a bottle back?”

She smiled then and it hit Neville in the gut. Fuck, Luna was so beautiful. He could absolutely fall for her if she gave him the slightest hint she was interested. Was she part veela or something?

They walked down the path to Hogsmead. It was a beautiful evening.

“Draco is going to be back soon.” Luna broke the silence Neville had been enjoying.

“Oh? Is the trial over?” Neville glanced at her.

She nodded. “I don’t want to hurt you, Neville.”

He felt his jaw tighten. “Then, why are you with Ron and not me?”

She stared off into the distance. “He’s not confusing. I don’t have to decide how much to say with him. And, he doesn’t ask me questions I don’t know how to answer.”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk tonight, Luna. What is going on?”

She stopped and turned to him. “I’m sorry I have to hurt you, Neville. I wish I could see another way. I just can’t tell you everything yet. But, either way, I can tell you by your birthday.”

“Either way?”

Luna frowned and looked into the distance again for a second. “I can tell you now that we will sever before the school year starts again. Our bond is not a forever bond, we’re not destined for each other, despite our soul bond.”

“So, we’ll never have a fulfilled bond? We don’t get to have that? Is this about the string up on the seventh floor?” Neville was having a hard time keeping his temper in check. He needed a drink very badly.

“You and I will never fulfill the bond between us.” Luna had turned away from him, back toward the castle.

“How can you possibly say it so calmly, Luna?!”

She sighed. “Effort.” Then, she began to walk back to the castle.

Neville apparated straight to the Hog’s Head, then. What in the seven hells had that conversation been? He stayed to drink after Aberforth would not sell him any more bottles of Firewhiskey. He had about six pints of butterbeer and stumbled back to the castle very late after puzzling out what had even happened with Luna.

On reaching the Gryffindor boys’ room, he saw that Ron was not in his bed then simultaneously stubbed his toe and banged his head on the bedpost. “Ow, ow.”

Suddenly, Draco appeared, shining like some ethereal being in the moonlight. Was he a patronus? No, that was crazy.

“Miss the bed, mate?” Draco helped him sit on the bed instead of the floor.

Of course he missed the bed, that’s how he ended up on the floor! “A bit, yeah…” Neville gestured to Ron’s bed. “She’s off with him again…”

Draco sighed. “Firewhiskey won’t help with that, Neville my boy.”

It had been butterbeer this time, though. Oh Draco was lit from behind by the moon and looked so beautiful. Neville found himself leaning toward him and then face planted into his stomach.

It was firm but squishy? What would it feel like if their chests were pressed together? Probably like this but more.

Then Draco was beside him, very close. Neville leaned gently against his friend. “But, firewhiskey does make it feel like it doesn’t matter as much as my brain wants it to matter.”

“Well, at least you know you won’t have to watch them together for much longer. She’s going home next weekend, isn’t she? Her dad’s gotten her house rebuilt, so she gets to go home.”

It was true. She would go away for the rest of the summer and sever their string! “It’s all just too much! I never thought I’d be able to be happy, but then she says she’s my soulmate but we’re not really supposed to be together, and this is a whole other depth of not being happy I never even thought of!” He was crying, giant tears that made him feel about four years old again.

“She told you what?”

“She knows we’re connected, but she won’t fulfill the bond. She says she’s going to sever by the end of the summer. She just says it the same way she says everything, ‘Oh, I can't, Neville, we’re soulmates but we won’t stay bonded past the summer’, and ‘our bond is not a forever bond, we’re not destined for each other despite our soul bond’.” He had fallen onto his side on the bed. “What am I supposed to do with that? I’ve never heard of that, have you? I think it’s the most mental thing I’ve ever heard anyone say.” He sobbed again, curling into himself.

Then Draco was running his hand along Neville’s shoulder, so gently, Neville wanted to cry harder. “That’s pretty fucked up, Nev. I had no idea Luna was so heartless.”

Neville had to collect himself or he would never stop crying. He sat up, almost losing his balance and ended up leaning on Draco’s shoulder again. “She’s gotten so strange since being kidnapped. It’s almost like she can’t pay attention to what’s happening in the here and now. Like, she’s becoming an Alithini Diairesis and can’t keep all the futures in her head at once, so she doesn’t even try.”

Neville could feel Draco shake his head. “Well, Luna being an Alithini Diairesis would certainly explain that ethereal quality she’s always had. I’m sorry, Neville. You deserve a soulmate who wants that. You of all people deserve a good mate.”

It was absolutely too much. Draco was being _so nice_ to him? How was this possible? Draco was with Hermione and Neville had been with Hermione. He wasn’t supposed to be so nice to his romantic rival. He tried to sit up straight on his own and failed miserably, just sort of shaking his shoulders weirdly. “Like you and Hermione? You got to see her this week, right?”

As if it had not been plastered across Tuesday’s front page.

Draco pushed him down onto the bed and laid beside him. Oh, this felt nice, laying down. And, with Draco. That part of him that had been ahem-ing sighed and grew bigger.

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my dear boy.”

Neville grabbed Draco’s arm and shook him. “I knew you two would get together! I predicted it! Me! Neville!” He belched and stopped moving, then ran out to the toilet. He had not had much dinner, he realised. But, Draco had called him ‘my dear boy’! That part of him grew a little bigger.

He rested his head against the cool tile of the wall. Finally feeling a bit better, he returned to his bed to find Draco still there. “Did anyone ever tell Hermione how Dean and Seamus came out to the entire school?”

Draco seemed to get comfortable next to Neville. “No, why would they? Why do you ask?”

“She caught them on the way back from their bush one night and thought it was some big secret she needed to keep for them. Then I wandered in and…” He yawned.

Draco’s laugh reverberated through the pillow they shared and felt for a second like it was coming from inside Neville’s own head. “And, she was saved from Seamus telling that story again by the entrance of your cock?”

Neville’s brain stopped. Was Draco thinking about _his_ cock? Neville’s? Or, was he suggesting that Neville and Hermione were still something? What was happening? “No? We…? I mean, I’m not trying to… There’s nothing, I’m, we’re friends and that’s all now?”

Draco moved against him. “I know. Can’t I tease you about being with her first? I could seriously give less than an eighth of a shit that you were together.” They had not really been together, though? That much had been very clear on both sides for some reason. “Or, not together. Whatever you were. How are Slytherins so much less uptight about sharing sex partners than Gryffindors? I don’t care who’s been with who as long as my partner wants to be with me.”

Neville considered this as hard as he could in his exhausted, hungry, inebriated state. Draco did not care that Neville had been with Hermione? And, his tone of voice supported this. He just wanted his partner to want him. That made some sense to Neville.

Wait, partner could mean guys, too? Was Draco into both? Was that why he was the Slytherin Sex God? Because you could worship him no matter if you were a man or a woman?

Neville was more afraid to ask this than he had been to ask a question in Potions with Snape. “Partner? Not just girls?”

Draco turned his head and Neville could feel the words in his ear as they were whispered. “Not just girls.”

Neville shivered, although he was not cold. As he had never taken off his jeans, his cock was now straining painfully at the fly. He did not think he could move to relieve his pain if he wanted to, though. He was stuck in place by the revelation of Draco’s non-preference. Was that a thing? To not prefer men or women? Was that what Neville was like?

The now-rather-medium-sized part of Neville that liked to ahem did so. Yes, that was what Neville was like. At least, that was what Neville was like with this particular man in his bed right at this moment. Yes, Neville was that kind of person.

Draco whispered again. “Good night, Neville my boy…”

Then he was gone, pulling Neville’s curtains shut as he climbed from the bed. It had been the most charged ten minutes of Neville’s life.

Sleep took him quickly, though. In the morning, the only thing he remembered after Draco left was the thought over and over, ‘not just girls’, ‘not just girls’.

The morning Prophet brought a lengthy article on Lucius Malfoy’s trial. Neville skimmed it, wanting to know only the very most basic facts without Rita Skeeter’s typical breathless flair for the dramatic. Lucius had trained Draco on how to do the Killing Curse with the intention that Draco would use it on Hermione. Also, a bunch of murders and Cruciatus and Imperius, but that had been a given. The Draco bits were worse than he could have imagined. What must Hermione be thinking? Had she already known before she and Draco got together?

He worked with Professor Sprout and a few of the weekend volunteers that morning on landscape repairs and laying more sod in places. He considered Draco’s testimony, the part of the article he read most closely. It explained a lot about why Draco had always been such an arse. Not everything, but a lot. Neville found that by the end of the morning, he just felt sorry for Draco having that kind of father and being tasked with such an evil thing. Would it be weird to ask him about it? It felt like it would be really weird to ask.

Plus, there was the fact that Draco was acting distant today. He blew off the idea of getting lunch before the afternoon off, which Neville found himself unusually disappointed about. Draco had not just straight up ignored him since arriving this summer. Oh, it felt _bad._

Neville had said he would go visit Gran, so he flooed away to his childhood home. Augusta Longbottom was overjoyed to see him and insisted he eat a slice of the pudding she made the night before. They had a pleasant catch-up until the morning’s article on Lucius Malfoy came up. Obviously the bit with Draco’s testimony was shocking, but he had not actually done that task, despite countless opportunities over the years, so Neville was not particularly upset about it.

Gran _was_ feeling particularly upset about it. “He’s always been a degenerate, that whole family is a cesspool of dark magic, Neville. I’m surprised they let the whelp go free, to return to the scene of his crimes.”

Neville scratched his forehead and kept his mouth shut. She just needed to get it out of her system, that was all. But then she went on about it for half an hour, and Neville could feel his teeth grinding.

Eventually he had to cut into her rant. “Gran, you don’t know him. He is totally different than he was. We’ve been working together for weeks and he’s been nothing but respectful and kind to everyone.”

She looked stricken with anger and fear. “What would your parents say? His mother is the LeStrange woman’s _sister_! That’s his aunt! You know what the Malfoys and LeStranges and Blacks are capable of, Neville! And, that’s who Draco is, too!”

Neville sighed and ran his hand over his mouth. “Well, let’s start with what my parents would say. We don’t know and we can’t know. There’s no way to know what kind of parents they would have been, Gran. So, that question won’t work on me anymore.” She looked angry at that but said nothing. “Yes, he is related to bad people. But, if you start believing that makes him automatically bad, you’re falling into the same thinking that made muggleborns into mudbloods and brought power to Voldemort.”

She scowled. “I wish you wouldn’t say the name. And, this is totally different. He’s already done so much evil, Neville!”

He got up before she started again. “Well, I can see you won’t change your mind from my account of him, or even listen to what I’m saying. So, I’ll see you later, Gran.”

He strode over to the floo and tossed in a fistful of powder, calling out for McGonagall’s office and stepping into the flames without another word or look back.

The headmistress was sitting at her desk and smiled crisply when she saw it was Neville. “Ah, Mr Longbottom, how are you this afternoon?”

Neville had the sudden urge to throw another fistful of powder into the fire and escape again. It must have shown on his face because she raised an eyebrow. “Should I ask instead if you’re alright, Neville?”

He felt frozen in place and just stared at her for a moment before she gestured to the seat before her desk. “You look like you could use another cup of tea, Neville. Would you join me?”

How did she know he had already had tea? He found himself sitting down as she conjured a teapot. With a few flicks of her wand and a minute, there was a cup of pink tea in front of him. She gestured to his cup and sat back in her seat. “You look like you’ve done something wrong, Neville. May I call you Neville? I find surnames a bit tiresome today.”

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t think I could call you anything but Professor, if I’m honest.” Neville took the saucer and blew gently on the surface before sipping. Hibiscus. Yum.

“I understand. So, what have you done wrong today?” She had the slightest hint of a teasing smile on her face, which unnerved Neville more than anything he could imagine.

He gulped loudly. “Uh, well, I stormed out on Gran when she wouldn’t listen to me.” Merlin’s bollocks, he sounded like he was thirteen again.

McGonagall took a sip of her tea and nodded. “Probably the best thing to do in that case. Augusta doesn’t much like to be told she’s wrong and your father was much the same. You’re more like your mother that way.”

It was rather hard to take a breath after hearing that. “You knew them? Mum and Dad?”

She nodded. “Of course. Your father was Gryffindor, as you know. And, your mother was my best Transfiguration student in her year. I was quite fond of her, even though she was in Ravenclaw. In fact, it may have been detention with me that started their acquaintance.”

He felt a little sad then that he had only known about his parents from Gran’s perspective. “What happened? I don’t know much about who they were as people, just what Gran uses as a club when she wants to make a point.”

His teacher looked so sad then, and Neville felt her pity. It made him feel very small again. It was the way the Weasleys had looked at him that one Christmas at St Mungos, and he hated it.

But, McGonagall cleared her throat and her eyes took on a brighter quality. “Well, Frank was always extremely sensible, but he had a temper on him, of course. One afternoon at Quidditch, he got into a fight with a couple of Slytherin boys who liked to poke at him. And, Alice had been caught in the Restricted Section without a pass for the third time. So, they cleaned the trophy room together, and then a month later, they received separate detentions when they were caught in, er, a compromising position by prefects’ rounds.” She chuckled.

Neville’s eyes had gone wide. “Wow. And, they were just together after that?”

She shrugged. “It seemed that way from my perspective, at least. Being their teacher, I was not exactly privy to anything interesting that was not popular knowledge.” She set her cup down. “Neville, are you alright? After the past year? It was not within my power to help you much, engaged as I was in other power struggles. I wish I had been able to do more to help.”

He took a long sip from his cup, savoring the sweet tartness of the hibiscus. “I’m better than some. I’m much more upset at how everything has gone with Hermione, if I’m honest.”

She frowned. “Yes, I understand. I have many regrets about how we’ve treated her over the years. Albus Dumbledore was a brilliant strategist, but terrible at empathy.” She glanced up at Dumbledore’s portrait. He was gazing down at her with annoyance. “Yes, you, Albus. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”

Dumbledore’s portrait scoffed and walked out of the frame. She turned back to Neville. “I expect he’s gone down to complain to Aberforth about me. Fortunately, Abe does not keep his portrait in the pub. I expect it would attract too much attention.” She took another sip of tea. “I was actually just writing to Miss Granger. She was under the impression she’d been sent away for bad behavior, somehow. I hope I can set her mind at ease on that score, at least.”

She frowned again and peered over her spectacles at him. “Neville, things here have been progressing more quickly than we expected. I would like for everyone to take more time off from construction. Do you think that anyone would actually do that, if given the opportunity?”

Neville felt the breath leave his lungs in a burst that was a sort of scoff. “I think if I took any more time off from construction, I’d go mad. I’m not here out of a sense of duty, although I do have that. I’m here because this is the only thing to do that makes me active enough to not stew in everything that’s happened the past year. It’s the labor that makes it so I can sleep at night, period.”

She frowned harder. “I see. Do you think this is a common sentiment?”

He thought of his friends, but also of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who had come back this summer. He thought of Draco, the lone Slytherin, who never complained and had thrown himself wholeheartedly into everything he had been given to do. “I think we all need something to DO this summer. We need to be active. If we’re not here, we need to feel useful AND active. Not just BEING useful and active, but also FEELING like it. Does that make any sense, professor?”

She nodded slowly, seeming to be lost in thought. When she came back, her eyes were steely. “Yes, Neville, that does make sense. I have a lot to consider. Would you excuse me?”

Neville swallowed the last of his tea and nodded. “Yes, have a good day, Professor.”

She nodded in acknowledgment and had already taken up her quill as he slipped out.

The only place Neville could think to go was Greenhouse One to check on the plants there. He let himself in and wandered over to the table with the seedlings. Several of the razor thistles looked overdue for a bigger pot. Something in Neville sighed with joy at having a specific thing to do. He fetched a pot big enough for several to pot together and filled it half full of soil with a few rocks at the bottom to make it harder for the thistles to knock the pot over. Razor thistle was a bit temperamental and if it did not like its neighbors, it would whip around and try to attack.

Unfortunately, as he was placing the final plant and gently pressing down the soil, the adolescent razor thistle lashed out at him. Oh, this was deep, and on his wand hand. He did his best to do the blood-staunching charm, but he could feel that it would not hold. And, his hands were covered in dirt. It was so stupid to have to go to the hospital wing for repotting a plant! But, that was where Neville found himself a few moments later, being checked out by today's triage volunteer.

Then, Draco appeared from one of the cubicles, smiling and chatting ( _chatting!_ ) with Madam Pomfrey. He seemed to be in a better mood than before lunch, but then he saw Neville and visibly startled for a moment before his face slipped back into its normal friendly summer mask as he finished his conversation with Madam Pomfrey. What had that been about?

Neville gave a tiny wave to Draco when Pomfrey came over to check him out and close the cut. She asked no questions, just fixed him up and he left with Draco.

They made small talk that felt awkward to Neville on the way up to the Tower. Neville considered fucking off back to Greenhouse One to do some more work there, but then Draco actually seemed to want to keep talking when they reached the portrait hole. And, _then_ , Ron woke from a nap in the common room and tried to pick a fight with them. It made Neville so wound up that he did not realise until later that afterward he had never before been so close to Draco in the day or fully sober. Draco had seemed surprised that Neville was his friend now. Was Draco blind? Neville was easy when it came to giving his friendship.

After dinner, Neville dug up the half bottle of Firewhiskey he had stashed in his laundry pile and invited Draco to share it. It was a beautiful night and Draco kept pointing out constellations to Neville.

“Yes, that one is Draco! I swear! They kind of do the swoopy thing there.” Draco was standing behind Neville with his arm over his shoulder to point at the sky. “Do you see Ursa Minor?” Neville nodded and realised he could smell Draco. It was a sort of clean sweat and sandalwood that made it hard for Neville to pay any attention. “Okay, follow the line the two stars by the tail form down to see Eltanin.” He moved his arm a tiny bit to demonstrate where the line led. Neville still could see nothing approximating a shape like a dragon. “And, Eltanin is the eye of Draco!” He dropped his arm across Neville’s chest in a sort of half hug.

“Sure! It’s very cool?”

Draco pulled away. “You still couldn’t see it, could you?”

Neville scrunched his face up and shook his head in the moonlight. “I’m sorry, Draco. I can’t follow what stars look like at all…”

Draco took another swig from the bottle and handed it back to Neville. “It’s okay. I’ll show you my constellation map sometime. Maybe you’ll get it then?”

Neville frowned. “I’ll take a look, but Astronomy is my worst subject, if you can believe it.”

Draco made a buzzing noise with his lips. “Worse than Potions?”

Neville took a swig. “So much worse. Gran took me to have my eyes checked to see if I needed glasses because all I could say about my marks after first year was that I just didn’t see the stars like everyone else did.”

Draco gave him an inscrutable look. “Hmm, weird.”

“I mean, I do see the stars, I just don’t see any patterns in them like everyone else does. I only managed to pass that course at all because I’ve started cramming for the tests right up until the last minute, but then I forget immediately afterward. Like, I swear I’ve heard of Eltanin, but I couldn’t have told you a thing about it.” Neville sighed. “I’m hopeless.”

The blond man shook his head and draped his arm around Neville’s shoulder. “I don’t think so. I think you’re plenty hopeful, Nev.”

Neville was intoxicated at the way Draco said his name so casually. He would never be able to say Draco’s name so casually. He looked at Draco’s face in the moonlight. It was beautiful. Or, did you say handsome for a man? Neville would have a hard time thinking of Draco as anything but beautiful. Handsome was true, but beautiful was _correct_.

They passed a bush that was making panting noises. Draco snickered and whispered in a quarter-slur, “Someone’s gettinn somethinn…”

Neville smiled. “It’s just Seamus and Dean’s bush, you know that…”

Draco laughed. “Yeah, but I’m not wrong, Neville my boy.”

Neville felt hot. What was he going to do? It felt like he was being drawn into a whirlpool of emotions when Draco called him that. It felt like Neville was doing something wrong. He could not want Draco. Draco was with Hermione, Neville’s first school friend. It was a betrayal.

Not just girls. Not just girls.

He looked at Draco’s face, so close to his own. The stupidly beautiful man was also turning into one of Neville’s closest friends. And, Neville wanted nothing more, really.

The evening had turned cool and they tramped back up to the dorm. A couple of girls were timidly kissing on one of the couches in the common room, so they went up to the dorm and sat on the floor between their beds finishing the bottle.

It felt cozy, like Neville had always wanted a friendship to feel. How had it taken a war to find this kind of friend?


	6. Foxglove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a lovely afternoon at the Hog's Head, Neville finds himself in a moment of confusion leading to a pep talk from Dean. The next morning, Neville gets close to a straight answer from Luna. After Draco's breakdown leads to a confusing day in muggle London, Luna gives Neville her strangest clue yet.

July 12-15, 1998

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Mrs Weasley delivered a package to Draco at breakfast and he disappeared for the rest of the morning. Neville found him swearing in the dorm in the early afternoon. Had Hermione decided she did not want Draco after all? No, apparently not, as Draco stood in a slight panic and started doing freshening charms to himself fifteen minutes later to go meet her in Hogsmeade on a spur of the moment.

Neville sighed after Draco left and decided it would be best not to stay inside thinking about the two of them in their happy bubble. He found Harry and Ginny helping with the re-warding efforts and joined them.

An hour later and the wards the teenagers could perform were exhausted. The more complex wards were to be performed by Charms Masters.

Harry took a long draw off his canteen after collecting it and looked at Ginny and Neville. “Hog’s Head?” He grinned. “Been a while since we’ve seen Aberforth.”

It had been less than two days since Neville saw Aberforth, but he did not want Harry to know that, after their conversation last weekend. Neville shrugged.

Ginny, however, nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! A butterbeer would be perfect right now!”

Neville bit his lip. “Uh, Hermione and Draco are down there now…”

Ginny got a weird smile. “She came all this way and didn’t come say hello? Hmm. She certainly has specific priorities today…”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

Ginny laughed. “They’re shagging, Harry.”

Harry’s face scrolled through several emotions in a row. “Hermione? With Draco? Malfoy? Yeah, she told me about that last weekend…” He grinned and winked.

Ginny rolled her eyes and took his arm, pulling him toward the gates. “And you never told ME? Your GIRLFRIEND?!”

By the time they reached the Hog’s Head, Ginny had gotten through her apparent crankiness at being the last to know about the new couple. As the trio entered the pub, the happy couple seemed to be in their own world, giving Neville a gnawing feeling in his chest.

That feeling only intensified as Hermione explained her theory about the soul strings on the seventh floor and how to use them. It was madness, but Neville could see a little bit of what Luna had been hinting. She clearly wanted to do what Hermione was now suggesting.

So, Neville barely had to consider the implications before he agreed. He would rather not sever, but if Luna would not have him, he found he wanted to use the strings to do something good. It was an awkward conversation, to be sure, but he did want to be free of her nonsense if it was possible.

After their drinking party, they lost Ginny and Harry on the way back to the castle. The trio seemed more at ease for the rest of the walk, pushing and pulling at the conversation in an almost flirty way. When Neville and Hermione broke off to go get Pepper Up potions, Neville felt like she had never left. They got along so well, it made Neville feel a little sadder again. He was always going to be close to her, but they would never have what they had before.

The time away had sharpened and softened Hermione inexplicably. She had clearly apparated across the country at a moment’s notice, _for Draco_. But, she still felt like the Hermione he had begun to fall for.

Oh great. Had he really begun to fall for Hermione? Fucking hell, he was not that guy. He did not want to be the guy who held a flame for his friend’s girl.

But then at dinner, all three of them kept up that flirty banter that had started on the walk up from town. It felt like breathing fresh air, crisp and sweet. Hermione went to talk to McGonagall afterward and Neville left with Seamus, ostensibly to go watch him play chess, but then broke off and went back to the bedroom to be alone instead. He found another half-full canteen and took a few swigs to calm his nerves before stashing it in the back corner of a desk drawer.

He considered what he felt for the two of them. He knew they must be off together now as Draco was not back and tended to go to bed by eleven most nights before work. Neville felt really happy for them that they liked each other. That much was absolutely certain to him.

He must just be attracted to the idea of them both being happy.

But there was that feeling he had gotten that Draco was flirting with him. With both him and Hermione, when they were both around. And, he _had_ said it was not just girls.

Neville fished the canteen from its hiding place again and took another few swallows, trying to clear his head of wondering how Draco would feel pressed against him, how they would fit together, how men have sex with men.

Great, now he was hard and fully incapable of concentrating on his novel. He closed the bed curtains with a flick, muffliato-ed his space, and pulled off his trousers and pants. Would Draco be gentle or rough? Probably a combination, grasping and kissing hard, and gently running his hands everywhere.

Everywhere. Neville thought of catching Dean and Seamus in their bush that one time. He thought of Draco fucking him in the arse like that. His cock strained at nothing. It must feel good, if a touch messy? He pulled his legs up and cast a couple of cleansing charms on his arse, then a lubrication charm he liked. It felt very strange. He tested how circling it with his slick fingers felt. Very strange. Then, he thought of Draco’s fingers doing it, and the thought made his cock twitch.

He tried to relax and just stick a couple of fingers in. It was an awkward angle. He flipped onto his side and tried again from behind, finding that to be a bit easier. He stroked his cock gently, not sure he would remember to keep going on his arse if he got too far into his normal routine.

Oh, there it was. He found the good spot, slightly hard but squishy. He thought of Draco, fingers in his arse, maybe sucking his cock. He massaged that spot inside, thinking of how Draco would be, gentle but firm, probably kissing him, and Draco would be so good at kissing. Neville could tell.

He found he was getting lost in the thought of Draco, thrusting into his fist. Draco would be so beautiful, lips wrapped around his cock, bobbing up and down, looking him in the eye.

And Neville came with a gasp. He could feel it in his arse, too, the feeling of pulsing through his fingers on that spot and the muscles tensed around his fingers.

As he came down from the pleasure, Neville felt so ashamed of himself. This was Hermione’s boyfriend! What was wrong with him? _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

He cleaned himself up, banished the lubrication and large pool of come and went to wash his hands. He stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. Disgusting.

“Never again, you sad wanker!”

Then Dean came out of one of the toilets.

“Everything okay, Nev?” Dean had a look of real concern in the mirror’s reflection.

Neville frowned. “Yeah. Fine. Just giving myself a reality check.”

“Really? It sounded like you were beating yourself up a bit.” Dean frowned as he washed his hands.

Neville just shook his head and scrubbed at his hand harder, staring at the foam on his hands.

He felt a damp hand on his shoulder and looked up at Dean towering above him, feeling a tear falling down his cheek.

“Neville, what is wrong?

Neville shook his head and looked down at his hands again, running them under the now-scalding water.

Dean reached for the cold tap and forced Neville’s hands under the second faucet. “Nothing is worth hurting yourself about, brother.”

Neville sniffed. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m doing things I don’t recognise. And I’m so alone…”

Dean nodded. “You’re always welcome to hang out with me and Seamus, but I don’t think that’s quite what you mean.”

Neville shook his head again. “I just want people I can’t have.” Not just girls.

Dean looked confused. “What, Hermione? It didn’t seem that serious between you.”

Neville nodded. “It wasn’t. We agreed it wasn’t serious.”

“But you caught feelings and she didn’t?”

That was barely the half of it, but Neville could not put into words any of the rest of it, so he just nodded again, rinsing the rest of the soap off in the cool water.

Dean sighed. “That’s a tough one.”

Neville looked up again at Dean’s face. He was so kind. He and Seamus were lucky they found each other. He took a deep shuddering breath and looked back at his hands. “How did you know you like blokes?”

Dean froze and Neville looked up again. The other man’s eyes were wide but he had an excited look on his face. “Uh, one day I asked Seamus to pass the pumpkin juice and he said, ‘sure thing, love’, and I wanted to kiss him? I’m pretty sure that’s not the usual way, though.”

Not just girls…

“But, when did you know you like men? Like, you must have been interested in other guys, too? At some point? Or was it just Ginny then Seamus and no one else?”

Dean looked a little confused and rested against the sink. “Mm, I guess I always liked the guys in their Quidditch or football kits? I had a Manchester United poster in my room growing up and Krum was pretty fit in that knock-you-over kind of way? I don’t know, I guess. Seamus feels like it for me in a lot of ways.”

Neville frowned. This had not been helpful.

Dean cleared his throat slightly. “Why do you ask, Neville?”

Neville sighed. “Just wondering how someone knows about that kind of thing.”

Dean nodded. “Well, if this has anything to do with what you told yourself earlier, I’ll just tell you, it won’t go away if you’re gay. Or bisexual. If you got off thinking about a bloke, you’re not going to make yourself straight just by yelling at yourself.” He shrugged. “Just my two pence.”

Neville had no idea what to say to that. Dean clapped him on the shoulder again and disappeared back out to the bedroom.

Alone in the washroom again, he leaned on the sink and stared in the mirror again. He still felt terrible and awkward, but it had maybe helped to hear that from Dean.

He stared at his face. He barely recognised himself from being the weird round kid with the toad as a first year. He must have lost the roundness sometime in the past year. He remembered quite clearly feeling like the round kid before a growth spurt last summer, and it must have gone by the time school started or Lavender would not have looked twice at him.

He would not let himself think of Lavender, and so went straight back to the bedroom and drank from the canteen until he coughed. That would do.

Neville climbed back into bed and opened his book again. He had no idea what was happening in it, but hopefully Poirot would stop being such a prat to Inspector Hastings soon. They should just kiss and get it over with.

Oh, yeah, there it was. Neville rolled his eyes at himself. Not just girls.

About six chapters of who knew what plot into the book and Draco crept quietly through the door. Neville found himself smiling immediately. He cast the muffliato to keep Dean and Seamus from hearing their conversation. It occurred to him briefly that Ron no longer lived in this room. He shook his head. “Did Hermione go back?”

Draco frowned. “Bad idea to apparate that far this late, and she didn’t want to wake McGonagall to use the floo.”

That made sense. The next words out of Neville’s mouth did not. “You’re in love with her, huh?”

Neville could not look at him until he answered. He needed to hear how Draco would say it to know how he should feel about it.

Draco’s voice almost broke with emotion as he stated, “Yeah, I really am.”

Neville felt his heart grow. He was so happy for them? Why was he so happy for them? It meant he could not be with either of them. His voice came out excited and he did not understand why. “I fucking knew it! She’s all in for you, mate!”

What was he even talking about? This was not him. Why was he so happy all of a sudden?

Draco chuckled as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, exposing the milky expanse of his chest marred by the scar. “I’m the luckiest bastard I know.”

Neville could not breathe. He could see both Draco’s scar and the remains of the Mark in the moonlight. They were such different remnants of the past, both pieces that had been forced onto Draco. Neville opened his mouth to comment on it somehow, and instead said, “So, you know that music player?”

Ugh, seriously, now?!

“Do you think I could listen some time? I’ve always wondered what muggle music is like.” Morgana help him, this was just about the most earnest shite he had spewed all summer.

Draco turned to face him, a smile of amazement on his face. “Yeah, I need to get some more music for it, but you can listen to whatever you like. I think you’d like Supergrass the best of what I’ve got.”

“Cool!” Oh, come on! Really? So earnest it hurts!

But, Draco looked at him with a weird smile. A smile Neville recognised. It was how Draco looked at Hermione, but now Draco was looking at him that way.

They turned out the light and Neville pretended to fall asleep quickly, as he was in a full-on panic. Draco had looked at him like he wanted to eat him. And, no one else was around, and he had given _that look_ to Neville that had been captured so expertly by Rita Skeeter’s photographer. The look that said ‘we are more than friends’.

Neville cast the muffliato again and drank as much more of the canteen as he could stomach. It helped less than he wanted it to.

In the morning, Neville was awake early for reasons that never became clear. He stayed in bed with a queasy stomach thinking about yesterday until he heard unmistakable noises coming from Seamus’s drawn curtains. He threw a silencing spell at them and pulled himself out of bed and threw on his clothes as quickly as possible.

He found only professors in the Great Hall so early on a Monday. He sat off to the side and scanned the Prophet for anything interesting. He had no appetite this morning, but forced himself to drink some pumpkin juice and eat some toast.

At some point, he realised Luna had sat down beside him and startled. She must have been there for a while as she was half done with her oatmeal and tea.

“Good morning, Neville.” She had that same serene smile, the one that had become almost fae in his mind.

“Good morning, Luna. How long have you been there?”

She shrugged. “Twelve minutes.”

Neville scanned the hall. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

She frowned slightly. “He was just waking up when I left. We both have things to take care of today. It’s going to be a busy week.”

Neville thought of what still needed doing in the castle and could not imagine what she meant. If they all took the rest of July off, they could still finish early. “Busy week? How so?”

She blew the fringe from her forehead then fixed him with a direct look in the eyes. “Neville, you’ve been feeling alone. And, it’s because of me. But, by the end of the week, you won’t feel alone anymore. I’ve thought a lot about it, and you need to listen to yourself when you clear your throat.”

Neville felt sick. His voice was breaking. “What… What?” He stared at her and she stared back.

She whispered so softly he could barely make out her words. “That part of you, it’s right. It’s right, Neville.”

His mind was blank as he searched her face for something, anything that could explain… her. “How do you know, Luna? Alithini Diairesis?”

She still did not break from his eyes. “I can see choices. And consequences. In my dreams I see possibilities. It’s terrible.”

Neville’s eyes and mouth formed perfect Os. “It’s true?” He swallowed thickly. “Why are you doing this to me, then? To us? Won’t your sight be stronger with a fulfilled soul bond?”

“We won’t be happy. Neither of us will.” She was getting that look like her eyes were about to roll back into her head but then they snapped over to where Hermione approached their table.

“Hi you two…” Hermione sat down.

Luna smiled and turned to face her. “Good morning, Hermione. I think your nargles are going away. Hopefully the Burrow doesn’t get infested now.”

Hermione shook her head and chuckled. “I’d be more worried about the Ministry than the Burrow, honestly.”

Luna seemed to consider it. “That makes sense. There were quite a lot of them in the Wizengamot room. I heard you were at Mr Malfoy’s trial. I’m sorry I missed you there, but you were gone when I testified on Thursday. It seems it was quite stressful.”

Hermione sighed. “Yes, I couldn’t stay. It WAS very stressful. Luna, did anyone tell you about my idea for restoring the Room of Requirement?”

“Not yet, but you want to do something with the soul strings leading us up there.”

Neville glanced at Hermione. “Yeah, Hermione thinks the six of us could use the strings to restore the Room.”

Luna had that weird smile again. “Yes.”

Hermione looked annoyed. “What do you mean, yes?”

“Yes, we could use the strings to restore the Room.” She sipped from her nearly empty teacup. “I had some dreams about it. We could do it.”

Hermione huffed. “Is this like how you know you won’t be a teacher here?”

Ugh, what?

Luna nodded in that fucking annoying way she had.

Neville could barely contain his questions. “You said we COULD do it… So, what else could we do?”

Luna seemed lost in thought for another moment. “Not restore the room. I’d have to think more about what else we could do with the bonds if we don’t restore her room, though. It’s okay, Neville. Whatever we do will be the right thing to do. The fact that we’ll only choose one thing doesn’t mean we didn’t have other choices.”

More of this Alithini Diairesis shite. “I just need to know which part of it is fate, Lu…”

Luna put her hand on his cheek, stopping him. “None of it is fate. It’s all choices that make other choices. All of it.”

He finally burst. “What the fuck, Luna? You’re fucking with our lives, then! And, for what? Because you saw we’ll be unhappy? If it’s all choices, we’ll just make different choices! Just tell me what to do to make you happy and we’ll do it!”

Hermione had gone.

Luna sighed. Her eyes rolled back into her head again and she spoke with that unearthly voice, another sparkling tear rolling down her cheek. “Sadness. Pain. Confusion. Fear. Anger. I will never be enough, Neville Longbottom. I will never be enough. With others you can find joy, comfort, confidence, peace. Only these with me: sadness, pain, confusion, fear, anger.” She made a sort of choking sound and her eyes focused on his face again.

Neville stared at her again and his voice barely escaped. “What was that?”

She frowned and slid off the bench. “You have your fucking answer, now, Neville. Please go be happy. Please.”

She escaped the Great Hall and was replaced at the table shortly by Ron Weasley. He looked like he had not gotten a wink of sleep in days.

Neville was too shocked to react when Ron started shoveling eggs and toast onto Neville’s plate. Ron looked at him with an odd sort of pity, then shrugged. “She said you need to eat breakfast.”

Neville’s jaw felt very tight. “Fucking what?”

“This morning, she said you need to eat breakfast.” Ron frowned. “Sorry, Neville.”

He could practically feel his face getting red with anger. “Why?”

Ron nodded. “Well, uh, for sleeping with Luna, I guess? And for being a git about Malfoy… Sorry, uh, Draco.”

What was the point of this? Ron shoved a fork into Neville’s hand. Neville was very close to losing his shit entirely. “Why did Luna tell you I need to eat breakfast? And why did she fucking tell YOU, RON?”

Ron looked a little bit lost now. “Uh, well, uh, Luna, she, well, she told me things? Uh, not much, but she’s weirdly scary, and uh, oh, she didn’t say anything about you, just she said you needed to eat breakfast this morning. But, she told me things about myself and the future, and weirdly, about Lavender, and I think I’m done for with her, Neville. I think I’m all in, if Luna’ll have me.”

Neville had the urgent thought that he could easily stab Ron with the fork if he was quick about it. He very carefully placed the fork on the table and sat on his hands. “And she didn’t say ANYTHING about me in all of this love fest you had last night?”

Ron shook his head. “No, why would she?”

“Because she’s MY. FUCKING. SOULMATE.” Neville’s voice was so loud Ron flinched and McGonagall looked over at them.

Ron went even paler than he had already been this morning. “It’s you who’s going to sever?”

Neville was glad he had not eaten anything yet. “Yes! I fucking definitely am now! I can’t fucking believe this.”

Just then, Professor McGonagall announced that the morning shift was to begin soon. She gave a specific stare at Neville as she finished the public announcement.

“Mr Longbottom, you are excused for the morning. Mr Weasley, I would suggest you go elsewhere now.” Ron had infrequently moved faster than he did leaving the Great Hall then. “May I sit for a moment, Neville?”

Neville gestured to the seat across from him. He found that he was suddenly ravenous and began shoveling eggs into his mouth.

She perched on the bench and floated her teacup over from the professors’ table. “Neville, do you know that you are extremely highly regarded? Not just here at Hogwarts, but throughout magical society? Your future could easily be anything you want it to be, even lacking any N.E.W.T. scores at all.” She sighed and took a sip of tea. “I think you would do well to think about what you want, and if that can be accomplished here at Hogwarts. After our conversation Saturday, I have considered that many of this summer’s volunteers are doing this out of a need to be active, and a misplaced sense of duty, and that both of those things are making some of us deeply unhappy. I include you in that group not just because of your outburst this morning, but also because I have never known you to be a drinker.”

She reached out and put her hand on his non-fork hand. “I am worried that Hogwarts is not the right place for your talents right now, Neville. If you would prefer to be elsewhere, I will do everything in my power to find somewhere for you to be useful and busy and heal.”

She withdrew her hand and stood, a tear in her eye. “Please take this morning to consider what would help you find peace.”

She swept out of the hall, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Neville ate until he was overly full. It was all he could do so he did not cry. Eventually, everything seemed to settle down. The remaining food on all the other tables disappeared, as did anything he had not touched on his table. He did not think he had ever been alone in the Great Hall before. It had never felt so empty of everything that gave it life as it felt now.

Peace. What could that even mean? It was nothing.

What had Luna even said to Ron? And, why the fuck had she not told him that Neville was her soulmate?

And, now McGonagall knew how much he was drinking? Fuck.

Neville went out to Greenhouse One and lay in the aisle by the ferns again. They seemed less interested in him today, but still curled gently around his fingers. He fell asleep that way, only waking to the phantom stamping of Ginny’s horse patronus.

“We’re on the second floor balcony in the north corner and we need your help. Draco’s paranoid he broke his foot or something.”

What the hell? Neville stood, brushed himself off, and jogged back to the castle, feeling like a sweaty mess. It was sometime in the afternoon, which was confusing his sense of time. How had he slept for more than four hours in the middle of the day?

As he reached the archway leading to the balcony, he could hear Draco saying something. “...just getting back at me for all the years I harassed your boyfriend and friends.”

Neville peeked his head through the doorway and had to swerve slightly to avoid Ginny’s hand flying.“No, you’re part of this now! We had a meeting and agreed!”

As Neville stepped through the doorway, Ginny hit him hard in the chest. “Fucking tell him, Neville. He’s our fucking friend so he has to tell us shit. And he’s not allowed to call me Ginny unless he’s dying.”

He had no idea what he had just walked into, but he agreed and moved on to doing his best to get Draco to the hospital wing. Ginny cast a weightless charm on Draco so Neville could more easily carry him on his back.

And, now Neville knew what it would feel like to have Draco pressed up against him. Incredible.

Even more incredible was that Ginny had noticed something was wrong with Draco before Neville had. He insisted to Draco on the way to the hospital that he should talk to someone, and that someone should be Neville. It was impossible to know if he had even processed what Neville was saying, though, because he kept moaning in pain into Neville’s ear. It was definitely a moan of pain, though, right? It could not be that Draco was _enjoying_ being so close to him?

Impossible to say, really, said that part of Neville that liked to ahem. Pain and pleasure used all the same consonants.

After depositing Draco in the hospital, Neville went in search of Professor McGonagall. Although he had not had many thoughts about what would bring him peace, he did know that he could not leave Hogwarts right now. It felt simply chaotic to be anywhere else.

He finally found her at dinner, after being waylaid helping several random teams as he looked for her.

Professor McGonagall smiled when he approached. “Ah, Mr Longbottom, how was your day? Improved at all from breakfast?”

Neville nodded. “Yes, I thought about what you said. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to go right now. I think that since I’ve had a chance to think about everything, I’ll be alright staying here.”

She patted him on the arm. “I’m just glad you considered it. We did miss you this afternoon, although I heard you were a bit of a roving helper? I’m glad you found something to occupy yourself after your nap.”

He blushed. “I’m sorry! I just fell asleep. I’m not used to doing nothing.”

“No reason to be sorry. I’m just glad you were able to rest.” She smiled at him again and her attention was drawn away by one of the Hufflepuff girls.

After dinner, he and Ginny played Exploding Snap in the common room for a few hours and then talked for a few more hours. They had been so separate for so long that it felt good to just be good friends. Ginny teased him about getting to be ‘such good friends’ with Draco. It was embarrassing to get red in the face from just her gentle teasing, especially knowing now that she could read people as well as he could.

But, then as he went up to bed, the worst part of his week began. He could hear Draco from the stairwell, sobbing and calling out incoherently.

The scene before him when he rushed into the bedroom looked like a werewolf attack. Draco was crumpled on the floor with his shirt hanging off him in tatters. He had scratched his own chest and face bloody. Now that he was fully in the room, Neville could make out what Draco was saying.

“It’s in there, it must be! Where is it! Neville! Come help me get it open, it must be inside somewhere! I have to find it!”

And, Neville did what was apparently his go-to when someone was out of their mind and screaming like this. “Stupefy!”

He immediately regretted it, as Draco slumped over with dead eyes. And, now with the angle of his body and the scratches everywhere plus the vacant stare of the Stupefied, Neville could only think of Lavender for a long minute before he turned away.

“Pip! Pip!”

A house elf popped into the room, screamed and popped out again. “Pip! I need your help!”

The elf popped back into the room, eyes closed. “Okay, fine, Pip, I need you to get Professor McGonagall. Tell her Draco Malfoy is having some sort of… episode… and I need her help!”

The elf popped back out. Neville wished he could remember the name of any other house elf he knew right now. Pip was the most nervous sort of elf, and for good reason, as he had been the personal elf to the Carrows.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall swept into the room with Seamus and Dean on her heels. She surveyed the scene and placed her wand to her throat, speaking in a low voice. “Poppy, Draco Malfoy has taken ill in a most peculiar way in Gryffindor Tower. Please meet us in the seventh year boys’ dormitory.”

Then Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey took it entirely out of Neville’s hands. He went down to the hospital wing with them all, as he knew he could not sleep without knowing what was happening. He was allowed to stay at Draco’s bedside. The adults assured him that whatever was wrong with Draco would not have been worsened by the Stupefy Neville used to sedate him. Madam Pomfrey did give him a better sedation charm to practice, though. _Pulso_ was apparently what she preferred as it had no mental component, just a physical component that wore off slowly unless banished.

So, Neville spent his night propped up in a chair by Draco’s hospital bed. In the half light, he could see Draco’s twisting into grimaces and the occasional twitch of his hand. Madam Pomfrey had told Neville that Draco could not hear him, but when Neville saw the twitching of his hand, he took his hand and squeezed, hoping Draco could feel that he was not alone.

After an almost sleepless night, the morning brought a new face to the castle. Healer Madeleine Simons was a tall woman with a look of steely resolve in her eyes. Neville was sent away to breakfast as she took his chair.

He sat at breakfast with Ginny and Ron.

“Hard night, Neville?” Ginny was practically throwing jam onto her toast.

Neville poured himself a coffee and considered what to tell them. Ron looked afraid to meet his eyes, but was nevertheless paying attention with glances in Neville’s direction between bites of his cereal.

“Uh, Draco’s in the hospital wing. I found him on the floor of the dorm last night in some sort of, I don’t know, he wasn’t himself. He’s in some sort of coma.” The gravity of the situation hit Neville all at once and he felt himself break a little bit, a bubble of repressed feeling coming to the surface. “It was terrifying.”

Ginny’s eyes had gone wide. “Is he alright?” She shook her head. “Sorry, of course he’s not alright. But, what are they doing? Is Madam Pomfrey treating him?”

Neville shrugged and felt helpless. “There’s a Healer here from St Mungos with him now.” He sniffed back a tear. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Ginny put her hand out and he took it. “They’re getting him help, Nev. They’ll fix it, whatever it is. He’s going to be alright.”

Ron swallowed and finally met Neville’s eyes. “I’m sorry your friend is sick, Neville.”

Ginny and Neville stared at Ron in shock for a moment before Ginny put her other hand on Ron’s shoulder. “That was really nice of you to say, Ron. So, who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Neville choked out a laugh. Ron looked vaguely offended. “Just trying to be less of an arse, Gin.”

Neville smiled. “Thanks, Ron.”

He tried to eat something, but it just felt like he was trying to eat rocks, like he was building a brick wall in his stomach. He drank a large quantity of coffee and juice. Ginny began babbling about the Holyhead Harpies’ lineup to no one in particular, filling the silence.

McGonagall would not give Neville any construction duties after his sleepless night, nor would she tell him anything about what was happening to Draco. Professor Sprout collected him, though, and they went to Greenhouse Five to begin some new plantings.

It felt like the longest day of the summer so far. He tried to find out what was happening to Draco during lunch, but Madam Pomfre would not or could not tell him. So, he returned to work in the greenhouse in the afternoon and put his vaguely shaking hands to work in the soil, finding that he was crying on and off.

Professor Sprout kept him busy until dinner and then walked him to the Great Hall, putting a hand on his shoulder as they parted. “They’re doing everything they can, Longbottom. Malfoy will be right as rain, if they can help it at all.”

He nodded, feeling the tears coming again. “Thank you, Professor.”

She nodded and went to the staff table as Neville went to sit beside Ginny.

“Any news about your beau?” Ginny did not seem to have a joke in mind, as her face was quite serious.

He shook his head in panic. “He’s not… we’re not… it’s not like that?”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Okay. But, have you? Heard anything, I mean?”

Neville frowned. “They wouldn’t tell me anything after lunch. I’m going back after I eat.”

Ginny grabbed a large chicken leg and a hunk of bread, wrapping them in a napkin. “Let’s go now.”

Neville sighed with relief. “Yeah, okay.”

They went together, Ginny forcing him to eat the chicken on the way. They were allowed to stay as the Healer had just come out of the Leglimency she had been performing all day and Draco was expected to come out any moment now. They waited together, Ginny poking Neville’s hand every few minutes to get him to finish the chicken, then the bread. It still felt like he was eating sand, and the food made another brick in his stomach.

Finally, the Healer appeared and gestured to Neville. “Neville? He’s awake now and he’d like to see you.” She smiled gently.

“Is he alright? What happened?” Neville shoved the remaining bread at Ginny and rushed over to the Healer.

“He’s on the mend, but probably quite tired. He’ll have to tell you what he wants you to know about what’s happened.” She ushered him into the cubicle where Draco lay, pale but awake and focused on him.

Neville rushed over to his side. “Merlin’s beard, you’re really awake. I was so worried.”

Draco’s voice creaked as he forced the words out. “What happened? She said you found me?”

Neville tried to explain how he found Draco the night before, and how scary it had been to see him like that. “It’s been just about all day she’s been in there, Draco.”

Draco blinked several times with the news. “Wow.” He looked like he was about to fall back into sleep, his eyes closing. “Mm, tired. Stay with me?”

Neville scooted forward in his chair and laid his hand on Draco’s arm, near where he knew the Mark to be. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else, friend.”

Draco let out a short snore and Neville settled in for another night of sitting up to sleep. Ginny brought him the book he had been reading and kept him company until Madam Pomfrey told them they had to choose who would stay the night. Ginny did not volunteer, so Neville stayed again, hand remaining on Draco’s arm as he let sleep take him, hunched over on the bed.

Some time in the night, Draco woke and pulled Neville up onto the bed beside him. It was a testament to how tired Neville was that he fell straight back to sleep. In bed, with Draco.

The following morning, Neville was pulled suddenly from sleep by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey. Draco was apparently feeling so much better, he was discharged, but was now on medical leave from his probation.

Draco seemed different now, somehow. He was more obviously careful with his words and more skittish somehow. Ginny tried to get him to tell them what happened, but it was clearly only a small part of the story.

They went to take a nap before Draco took Neville into muggle London that afternoon, and to see his mother.

Neville could only see the rest of the day as a disaster from his perspective. He had no idea how to act around muggles, and it was setting off every anxiety he had. Draco seemed weirdly at ease in comparison.

Then, the two men crammed themselves into that tiny booth to listen to music in the shop and Neville could barely contain himself. They were pressed so close together again. The music was so sweet. Neville closed his eyes and rested his head against the back wall just to try to go somewhere else in his head, but all he could think about was how alone they were together, and how nice it would be to touch Draco. He imagined climbing onto Draco’s lap to kiss him, then what it would be like to get on his knees, pull down Draco’s jeans, and put his mouth on Draco’s cock.

Only Neville’s continued anxiety about being in such an unfamiliar place as muggle London was keeping him from being fully hard.

Then, Draco was rude to the shop attendant, which somehow led to another panic attack? Neville ushered him outside and tried to take care of him, but also had not yet paid for his own purchases, and needed to go back inside to make apologies as best he could. The shop attendants seemed to be split on whether to give Neville the change from Draco’s purchase, but the woman did eventually convince the man it was alright.

Finally, they walked about two miles through the streets to get to Draco’s house, which Neville could not see until Draco pulled him inside. Neville was put into a side parlor alone while Draco went to speak to his mother. Neville poured himself a cup of tea to be polite, but did not actually want anything. When Draco reappeared, he looked annoyed and they flooed back to Hogwarts.

Neville suggested they go sit by the lake and listen to music together. He just wanted to have some peace after the stress of the last two days.

Draco lay in the grass beneath the tree and Neville found himself wanting to touch the other man, just to feel his heart beating. He summoned his courage and placed his hand on Draco’s chest, feeling the heart beating strongly below his fingers. “Have you ever seen the squid play with the merfolk, Draco?”

Draco looked out at the scene in the lake and placed his hand over Neville’s. “No, I don’t think so. It must be a summer thing. Can I ask you something?”

Neville looked at his face shining in the sun. “Sure.”

Draco looked anxious. “Why did you ask how I knew I was bisexual?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Of course he was asking about their conversation in the fish shop. He could feel himself trembling and wondered if Draco could feel it. “You know why…”

Draco whispered so softly, Neville could barely hear him. “I need to know for real.”

Neville shook his head, trying to calm himself. Fuck, he was not ready. He was not at all ready to say why he needed to know about Draco liking Not Just Girls. For once, the ahem-ing part of him was silent. “I can’t say it yet. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

He had to get away and was halfway back to the castle before he realised he had gotten up. A drink. He needed a drink. He took a canteen into the shower and let the water flow over him as he drank. He began crying again. Why was he such a coward? Why did he like Draco, who had a girlfriend? Why did he let himself get so close to Draco when he had no idea if he was even actually attracted to Draco?

Oh no, he was actually attracted to Draco, very attracted, said that part of him. That part of him had many fantasies about him to present.

And, here was one now… As he relaxed with the feeling of the alcohol in him, he thought of what it would feel like to have Draco find him crying and drunk here in the shower. How Draco would gather him into his chest and kiss his face. Or, just come up behind him, pressing him into the tile of the shower cubicle, running his cock up between Neville’s thighs. Spread him open and run his fingers around Neville’s hole, slipping a finger in, then two, and Neville could feel that he wanted it, grasping his cock, pumping it in time with Draco’s fingers in his mind. He wanted to feel Draco’s cock lining up with his hole, entering slowly, to feel Draco inside him, stretching him, until his hips were flush with Neville’s arse and he could begin thrusting, in and out, whispering to Neville how good he felt, how good he was being, how much he loved being inside Neville.

Then their places were switched in Neville’s mind, and he grasped his cock harder, imagining Draco pushed against the tile, water running over them both, Neville buried to the hilt inside Draco’s arse, begging for more, panting and moaning, those groans Neville heard from him on Monday, but louder, so loud, fucking into Draco, pulling pleasure from him.

Neville came with a groan against the tile and then sobbed with shame. He reached for the canteen, but it was empty.

What was wrong with him?! Nothing, said that part of him, there was nothing wrong with him. He liked Draco. He just needed to figure his shit out, because he could not drive himself mad liking someone who was with someone else. He was not that kind of person.

He collected himself, washing away the evidence of his fantasy and cleaned himself all over, pushing the self-loathing from his mind as best he could.

When he emerged from the shower, he found Luna sitting cross-legged on Ron’s old bed. He was glad he had already dressed from the shower. She smiled at him. He frowned at her. “What do you want, Luna?”

She hopped from the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell Ron about our soul string. I didn’t think you would tell him, or I would have done it myself before you did.”

Neville was barely holding onto his temper, which was difficult because he had never been a particularly angry person before, and now he seemed to get angry every time he talked to Luna. “I don’t forgive you. What do you want?”

She frowned. “I want you to know something very important, actually. Ginny is right.”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of his breath coming in and going out. “About...what...Luna?”

She sighed. “Draco and Hermione and you.” He felt her move past him. “Neville, I’m sorry for everything.”

He opened his eyes and turned to the door, but she was gone.

What had Ginny told him? That he and Draco were more than friends? She called Draco his beau yesterday, like it was the thirties or something. Was that it?

Fucking Luna!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update on Tuesday will be chapter 2 of Sight and Other Altered States. 
> 
> On Beauty will resume on Thursday.


	7. Dittany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville is enlightened by Ginny, leading to an interesting evening with Draco. Hermione's arrival is complicated by Luna's father.

July 16-17, 1998

The next morning, Neville needed another Pepper Up potion to start the day. His entire head felt like a sort of sick balloon. He endured the disapproving look from Madam Pomfrey and relished the feeling of the steam bursting from his ears and nose.

He sought out Ginny at breakfast, finding her tucking into her toast with gusto, the Prophet laid out on the table with a picture of Harry with Minister Shacklebolt smiling and blinking at the flashbulbs on the front page above the fold.

Ginny smiled when Neville sat down. “My boyfriend is going to receive the Order of Merlin, First Class.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What’s yours up to, today?”

Neville took a deep breath. “Actually, Gin, I need to pick your brain about a mad conversation I had with Luna last night.”

She frowned and glanced around, lowering her voice. “Is this about her fucking knowing shite? That she shouldn’t know about?”

Neville frowned back. “She’s gotten to you, too?”

Ginny huffed. “She got in my head or something. Is this why you two have been so weird around each other the past few weeks? Because she keeps saying uncanny shit you can’t ignore?”

He shrugged and nodded. “Among other things. But, she said something last night I might actually be able to make sense of. And, just so I don’t contaminate you with what I think she means, I need you to promise you’ll tell me the whole truth on this, Ginny. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”

She barked out a laugh. “When the fuck have I EVER told you what I think you want to hear?”

Neville just stared at her. “I need you to promise me, Ginny.”

She snorted. “Yeah, fine, if you need it as a promise, I promise to tell you the unvarnished truth to your face. Now, what the fuck am I telling you that you don’t want to hear?”

He swallowed. This was it. “What do you think of Draco and Hermione… and me?”

Shit, fuck. He forgot she did not know he might like guys. Would that make a difference?

Her eyes went wide and she took a sip of coffee. “Fuck, you might have me on that one.” She took another sip of coffee. “What do I think of the three of you? You’re all barely capable of being a coherent person right now. But, I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.” She took another sip of coffee. “Seriously, Neville?!”

He nodded, barely able to breathe. “Yes, seriously.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow again and bent forward, her voice a true whisper. “And, you like, like blokes?”

Neville gave the closest thing he could manage to a nod in his current frozen state. Ginny nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, staring at the table for a long minute. Neville waited with baited breath until she sighed. “You all like each other. It’s even obvious to Ron in a certain way. And, as no one really knows how triads happen, other than that they do happen, I mean, it could happen for you three. You’d be stupid not to at least try? I mean, he’s still Draco, arse of the century, but he clearly likes both of you, and you both clearly liked each other enough to shag behind all our backs for like, a month or something. Plus, I’ve never seen you as distraught as you did at breakfast Tuesday telling us about finding him the night before. I mean, I’ve seen you after getting tortured, and after Sword-of-Gryffindoring the head off an evil snake, and you never looked that upset. You should just give it a go? With them?” She frowned and stared at him. “Is that anything?”

Neville nodded, able to draw breath again.

“What did Luna tell you?”

His head began swimming with the knowledge that Ginny was right. “She said you’re right, about Draco and Hermione and me.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide again and Harry’s picture was sloshed with coffee as she let her mug fall to the table. “Fucking what?”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

Her face changed to a huge grin. “Yeah? I’m right?”

He had a weird feeling in his limbs, like a fluttering he could not pin down. “Luna says you’re right, at least.”

She huffed and slapped the table, sloshing more of her coffee onto Kingsley now. “How am I right? How? And, why is she the fucking arbiter of whether I’m right? I’m just supposed to take the piss out of everyone and spout shite, not be fucking right about a triad! I never meant to be right, just funny.”

Neville frowned. “I don’t know, Gin. Just don’t tell anyone until something actually happens? If something happens?” He had a sinking feeling. Did he really want this kind of complication in his life?

Yes! The part of him with opinions nearly screamed it. Yes, he wanted the complication of these two people in his life! He wanted it more than he wanted air or earth or magic. He wanted them! Both of them!

Ginny snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Where did you go, space man?”

He shook his head. “Just listening to an opinionated part of myself go on a tiny rant.”

She looked suddenly concerned. “Is that like Draco’s wall?”

Neville thought hard, squinting a little. “What wall?”

Ginny was incredulous. “What the fuck did you two talk about all day yesterday if he didn’t tell you about the wall?!”

He frowned and thought of the many things they talked about on their excursion. “I don’t know. What are you talking about, though?”

She put her hands up. “No, if he didn’t tell you, I don’t know how to, or if I should.”

McGonagall announced that it was work time now. Neville was paired with Dean and Seamus to do more work on another staircase that did not seem to be able to rotate anymore. None of the staircases seemed to be able to rotate now without multiple days of charms and complex transfigurations. The day was a nightmare of complicated spellwork that McGonagall and Flitwick needed to check every hour or so.

By the end of the day, Neville felt exhausted but weirdly hopeful in a new way. He returned to the dorm for a drink before dinner, but hearing a choking sob come from Draco’s drawn curtains detoured him instead to knock on Draco’s bedpost.

“Draco, are you alright? We’re alone, if you want to talk?”

Draco let him into the curtains. His face was blotchy and puffy from crying. Neville just wanted to hug him and tell him whatever was wrong would be alright in the end.

Without preamble, Draco began. “I had this wall in my head. I made it with Occlumency. And, I kept all of the bad stuff I’d thought, and everything from my father, and all the awful things I wanted to do to Her-Hermione, I pushed it all behind the wall. And, apparently you’re not supposed to use Occlumency that way. It’s unstable. And, all of that stuff behind the wall became its own thing, a monster, and, and, it was so much of her that it basically became a new version of her, that wanted to see the world burn. And, she found a way to finally escape, and she made the wall disappear, like it had never been there.”

Fuck. Neville reached for him and began gently rubbing his back, just wanting to comfort him in literally any way.

Draco sobbed a few times and wiped at his face. “That’s what happened, when you found me Monday night. I tested the wall and it didn’t exist anymore. I’ve never been more terrified in my life. Snape never said anything about this when he taught it to me.”

He sniffed again and leaned forward, hugging his legs. Neville continued rubbing his back. “When it happened, I was writing to Hermione in this journal that she twinned so we can write back and forth without owls. It was a lot of very intense shite that I don’t even know how much I actually felt it, or how much I just didn’t want things to change. She wrote me back and chewed me out thoroughly, but like, hopefully? And, I don’t know what to say back, and something in me has been really upset about that. Like, the ideas of her I’ve had in my mind all these years, everything I’ve ever thought of her, it’s like they WERE her to me, somehow.”

He took a stuttering breath. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to her, and it’s just not working, and I needed to know what she thought, what that idea of her I have, what she thinks I should say, or why that idea of her is angry and won’t let me know what to say. So, I asked her, that idea of her inside me. And, she accused me of making her, the idea of her, do all the work like the real her did all the work for everyone all those years. She said she’s just pieces of me, that everything that made up the idea of her is just pieces of me now, and she was always pieces of me, and then she disappeared, Neville.”

Draco began shaking. “She became just shards that pierced me, and it hurts, and she’s gone somehow. She’s not this cohesive thing anymore. Those pieces ARE me.”

Draco collapsed into himself and Neville reached for him, pulling him in and holding him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, pulling Draco against him as he cried harder. He turned into Neville’s body and clutched him harder.

How had Draco managed to keep all of this inside all summer? “You did a lot to hide the fact you have feelings, didn’t you?” Draco chuckled and nodded. “I’m sorry all that happened. It sounds really scary.”

Neville startled when he heard someone in the stairwell, closing the curtain. Not everyone would understand if they glimpsed this. “Nobody’s business…”

But, Draco pulled away. Oh no, he actually did not feel the same! Ginny was wrong! Luna was mad! No no no no no no.

Neville reached for the curtain again. “I’m sorry, I’ll just open them again.”

But Draco pulled him back, looking into his eyes. “No I just, I don’t know what this is, Neville. I’m just, I just, I’m with Hermione, but… You.”

Neville inclined his head toward Draco and reached for him again, finding his leg solid in his hand. “Yeah. It feels like I’m losing my mind. I was so worried about you, Draco. I’m still so worried about you. But, it’s not like how I worry about anyone else. I’m afraid this stuff with your mind will take you away from me.” He was so close now that their foreheads touched. “You’re not mine, but I wish you were.”

Draco nodded, fringe brushing Neville’s forehead. “I have to tell Hermione. I want you both. I just want you both so badly.”

Merlin, how Neville kept his control in check was impossible to understand. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear his own words. He reached up and his fingers found the back of Draco’s head, hair so soft between his fingers. “That sounds perfect.”

He wanted to kiss the other man so badly, but anything done now would be a betrayal of Hermione.

But, he had to do _something_. He turned Draco’s head to the side and kissed his cheek, stubble sharp against his lips. Draco turned Neville’s head to the side and kissed his cheek in return. Neville pulled Draco to lay down, trying to be content with this stolen moment and finding it was enough for now. How would he tell Hermione about any of this?

When Draco woke him in the deeper night, Neville did not entirely understand where he was. But, he came to his senses quickly as Draco explained he had written to Hermione in their twinned journals and had given her blessing. Not only that, but she _wanted_ them to act on their feelings, _now_. So, they did.

Being with Draco was nothing like Neville had imagined. It was so much simpler than he had built up in his mind. Just kissing Draco was a strange revelation. It felt like coming home, but to a home that had just been built, just for them.

In the morning, they repeated their intimacy before leaving bed. Oh, Draco’s cock was yet another beautiful part of him. Hermione was wrong if she thought they would not be as distracted after _that_.

Neville was in Greenhouse Five just after lunch when Ginny’s horse burst in, yelling, “Great Hall, Luna’s dad did something to Draco!”

He took off running, blasting doors open as needed ahead of him. He could hear Draco’s screams from outside the Entrance Hall. Fuck!

In the Great Hall, Ginny was yelling at Luna, a stream of expletives and how-could-you-let-this-happens, and Professor McGonagall attempted to get Ginny under control, also yelling.

Luna sat where Neville had last seen her, calmly drinking her tea and taking everything in.

Xenophilius Lovegood was on the floor, and as Neville entered, the prone man seemed to slip his full-body bind. Neville sidestepped him, wand held defensively, just as Ginny shot another bind at him.

Firstly, Draco needed to stop screaming. Neville froze for only a second as he took in the crackling convulsions of the second man on the floor of the Great Hall. Draco’s body seized over and over as he screamed, in many ways looking like he had been hit with the Cruciatus. But, with Mr Lovegood in a full-body bind, his wand laying several feet away from him, it could not be the Cruciatus. As he processed all this information in the moment he froze, he raised his wand and cast the anaesthesia charm.

“ _Pulso_.” Draco was silent, eyes closing and body relaxing out of its convulsions.

Secondly, Neville had never seen Ginny so angry. She just needed to stop yelling as it was clearly doing nothing for the catastrophe. He approached her head-on, pulling her into a hug. “Ginny, he’s going to be alright. Stop yelling at Luna.”

“She let it happen! She’s just sitting there, letting it happen! She knew! She hasn’t moved, Neville!” Ginny thrashed against him, struggling to break out of his arms.

Neville held her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I know, but Draco needs help now, and you’re distracting from the real issue.”

Madam Pomfrey popped into the Hall with an unfamiliar elf. “What happened exactly?”

Luna cleared her throat. “My da came in and hit Draco with an accidental hex. He’ll be fine, just needs to get it out of his system.”

Ginny lunged slightly at Luna and started screaming again. “Fuck you, Alithini Diairesis! What the fuck are you-”

Neville felt the accidental magic leave him, going into Ginny and taking away her voice. He jolted backward from the shock. “Ahh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to silence you!”

Ginny looked like her head might burst from anger and she stalked off, shooting one final silent binding at Xenophilius Lovegood on the ground and a single-finger salute to Neville and Luna.

Professor McGonagall gave Neville a look of consternation before going to join Madam Pomfrey on the floor beside Draco’s silent body. A multitude of mostly orange lights were flashing over his body as the Healer seemed to be diagnosing him. Neville just felt helpless now that the high emotions had passed.

After ordering Neville and Luna to remain in the Great Hall, McGonagall popped out with the elf. Then the elf popped back in and took Draco and Madam Pomfrey out. Neville was left standing alone with the struggling body of Xenophilius Lovegood on the floor and Luna in her seat, refilling her tea.

“What the fuck, Luna?!”

Luna frowned and looked away, saying nothing.

Neville had no idea what to do, but was saved by the re-entry of McGonagall less than two minutes later, flanked by a man and a woman in DMLE robes. She gestured to Mr Lovegood. “Aurors, if you please, restrain him more effectively. Miss Weasley’s bind is only lasting a few minutes at a time.”

As if on cue, the man on the floor broke free of his invisible bindings with a grunt and reached for his wand. “Please, no! I didn’t mean to! Please! Please!”

The woman disarmed him with a flick of her wrist, catching the wand as it sailed through the air. The man cast Incarcerous, thick ropes flying from his wand and wrapping around Lovegood.

“No! Please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry--”

Neville cast Silencio on purpose this time. “You attacked a defenseless man! You don’t get to just apologise, you absolute waste of space!”

The aurors glanced at each other. The woman strolled over to Mr Lovegood, banishing the silence and dropped something on him that must have been a portkey, vanishing him.

The man turned to McGonagall. “Can you bring back any witnesses? We’ll need to question everyone and collect memories and the results of his diagnostics.”

She nodded and placed her wand to her throat, mumbling something, then gestured to Luna. “Miss Weasley will be here shortly. You can begin with Miss Lovegood. Mr Longbottom arrived after the incident took place.”

The woman ushered Neville into the Entrance Hall and took both his statement and his memory. When she finished, she gave him a card with her contact information, which was how he learned her name was Auror Smythe-Davies, no first name. Neville was profoundly unimpressed with her boredom. Both aurors seemed unphased by the attack, as if this was something they dealt with constantly, adults “accidentally” hexing teenagers.

No wonder McGonagall hated the DMLE.

There was nothing more for Neville to do now but go to the hospital wing and hope Madam Pomfrey would let him see Draco. Why was this happening? Why was this happening again, but differently?! It was shades of Monday and Tuesday all over again! Fuck!

The school’s Healer did let him sit at Draco’s bedside. Neville held his hand, sometimes laying his face against it. This was not supposed to be how today went. They were supposed to talk to Hermione, figure out what this was between them all! But there could be no talking with Draco in Another Fucking Coma!

Neville took the time before Hermione was supposed to arrive to consider what he wanted. Both of them? Did that even make sense with Hermione living at the Burrow? She was apparently coming back today for just the weekend, so what could he be to her if they were not physically together? They had not had anything but the physical before she left and never wrote to him. Obviously, the physical stuff was great, but it was in no way like what she seemed to have with Draco. And, if he was going to be anything to either of them, it could not just be physical, not with the way he felt now.

In the late afternoon, Hermione’s spectral otter came bounding up to Draco’s bed and stared expectantly for a moment before Neville realised it was here for Draco and was waiting for his attention.

“He can’t hear anything right now. Can you tell me before you disappear?” It was a longshot, but maybe it was intelligent enough to give him the message instead.

It turned out the otter did have some powers of judgment, as Hermione’s voice came from its open mouth. “Where are you, boyfriend? I’m here!”

Neville sighed and closed his eyes. Think of something nice, something really wonderful and beautiful. He tried to cast the Patronus. It was like those days of DADA practice and Dumbledore’s Army with Harry all over again. Only a fine mist came from his wand and dissipated quickly.

Merlin’s arse! He really needed to learn that spell of McGonagall’s to send messages.

He got up and began searching for Hermione, finding her twenty minutes later doing her own search for Draco.

“Hermione!” She was talking to Dean and Seamus in a remote corner of the fifth floor in a half-built stairwell.

Her face lit up when she turned and ran up to him, half-jumping into his arms. “Hello, lovely man!”

Neville had not expected quite such a warm welcome and had been working himself up into a near-panic about what he could possibly say to her. He could see Seamus nudge Dean and whisper something. He tried to focus on the woman in his arms who was so happy to see him.

“Hermione. How are you?”

She pulled away. “I’m fine.” She suddenly looked concerned. “Where’s Draco?”

Neville sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Uh, well, he’s going to be fine.” Hermione’s face took on the look of panic he felt himself. “Mr Lovegood sort of attacked him.” She blinked and opened her mouth. He waved his hands. “No, it’s fine, he’s in custody! Draco’s in the hospital, on the mend again.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Were you there? What happened?”

He shook his head. “It was after lunch. Ginny sent her horse and I ran as fast as I could. It wasn’t anything like Monday night, though. I think he’ll be alright. Madam Pomfrey said he’s just got to work through it…”

She nodded and sniffed, looking up at him with shining eyes. “Can we go see him?”

He pulled her into a side hug and they started walking back to the hospital wing. “He can’t respond yet, but we can be there. That’s where I was when I got your patronus.”

Her breath stuttered. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think _you_ would get that message! I didn’t say anything sensitive, did I?”

Neville shook his head. “No, you just called him boyfriend. But, that’s what you two are to each other, so it’s fine. Not too tender there.”

Hermione stopped and gazed at him with concern. “Neville, how do I make sure not to hurt you? I’m afraid I haven’t talked to you much since I freaked out and left.”

He took her hand and pulled them back into a walk, anxious to get back to Draco’s bedside. “I don’t know yet, Hermione. I just don’t want to be extra baggage or a secret, or just sort of your collective bit on the side.”

She snaked her arm around his waist. “I haven’t had much time to think about this, but if it’s anything, it won’t be any of that. I mean, you and I work really well together in a different way than I work with Draco. As much as Harry and Ron are my best friends, they don’t know me, not like I think you know me, and definitely not how Draco knows me. The only thing I know for sure is that I do want you, Neville, very much. And, if I hadn’t been at Draco’s trial, I would have tried to give it a real go with you.”

Neville was only slightly disappointed. It was not the profession of love Neville really wanted, but it was an extremely Hermione speech, which itself was touching. He wanted to say something back, but nothing sounded particularly apt or eloquent in his head. “I don’t know what to say, Hermione.”

She smiled and squeezed his middle as they walked on, his arm around her shoulder. “Just tell me you really like me, and that you want to try whatever this thing between the three of us is. Oh, and fucking how did you two get together!? I’m dying to know! Not, like, the details or anything, but the generalities?”

Neville thought back to their conversations over the past few days. He bent slightly to whisper in her ear. “Well, first of all, I like you so much, Hermione.” She blushed a little. “I want to be with you. I’ve wanted you since before our first, mmm, interlude?” She snorted gently with a tiny smile. “And, as for Draco and me, he woke me up from a dead sleep last night to insist I tell him I’m, hnn, uh, bi? And, then he snogged the breath out of me.”

Hermione’s laugh was like a song. “Oh, I’m familiar with that. But, how long have you known you’re bisexual?”

He pulled away. “Uh, if I’m honest, I just barely figured it out a week ago.”

She stopped again. “What?! A _week ago_? Are you sure you’re bisexual? You haven’t thought it for very long. Maybe it’s just a passing fancy, or just for Draco.”

He continued walking, suddenly hurt and confused. “I don’t know, I guess, if you put it that way.”

The part of him that ahems stood up and screamed, you fucking are, you arse! And, you better tell her so!

He ignored it. It was not worth trying to convince her. She was probably right, anyway, it was probably just for Draco, or he would grow out of it or something.

The rest of their short walk back to the hospital wing was silent and not their normally comfortable silence. Neville was increasingly annoyed. Who was she to make him doubt what he had realised about himself? Who cared if he only realised it in the past week? It felt true! Ugh!

She grabbed his hand to stop them as they approached the hospital doors. “Neville, please, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said. I’m sorry, just tell me what I did.”

He threw his hands up. “It was fucking hard to figure out I like guys, Hermione. And, you made me wonder if it was real! Like, I’ve wondered constantly since I first started thinking it that I was wrong or fooling myself. And, having you ask that same stuff is making it really hard to know what to think, because you’re ALWAYS RIGHT, Hermione! So, if you don’t think I’m bisexual, how the fuck am I supposed to argue with you?” He found he was shouting by the end.

She looked shocked. “Oh.”

Neville shook his head, angry now. “‘Oh?’ That’s it? Just, ‘Oh?’”

She breathed out sharply. “Yes. I didn’t know I was making you question yourself. I don’t really know anyone gay or bisexual, so I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was doing it wrong. I’m sorry, Neville. If you think you’re attracted to men and women, I think you’re bisexual, you know, since that’s what it means.”

He was still annoyed. So annoyed. “Fine. Good. I just want to go in and see Draco. Can we go in now?”

She looked like she might cry. “Yes, but, are we alright? I don’t want to hurt you, Neville.”

“Yes, fine. I’m not going to comfort you after you hurt my feelings, though.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.” She put her hand on his arm. “Can you tell me, though, is it very bad, what happened to Draco? Is it like the thing Harry did that gave him the scar?”

Neville hugged her briefly. “No, there’s nothing scary like that. He’s just asleep, or something like it.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. It’s terrifying, not knowing what’s going on.”

Neville felt like this single statement explained far too much about Hermione.


	8. Golden Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a complicated weekend, Draco disappears, sending Hermione into a tizzy and leaving Neville to pick up the pieces.

July 19, 1998

The thirty-six hours after Hermione arrived back at Hogwarts went by in a daze for Neville. 

Their trip to Harry’s house had been a weird sort of break from reality, and not entirely in a good way. Neville hoped he could never see that weird dark dynamic between Draco and Hermione again. Whatever that was, it was for the two of them to sort out between them, and he wanted nothing to do with it. He tried his best to put it out of his head. Well, most of the trip. He would keep the sex bits with him and Hermione and him and Draco. And, that incredible movie with the switching faces.

Neville felt much more like himself when they arrived back at the castle. He wondered if that was what his whole life would feel like, just always hoping to get back to a place where he felt like himself. 

He joined the well-populated work party in the morning, doing more work on caved-in portions of the roof before they worked on Ravenclaw Tower that afternoon.

Just as lunch was ending and Neville was about to get up from his now-empty table, Hermione came to give him her twinned journal, bearing the initials DH in embossed script on the cover. “Can you tell Draco I’ve given you my journal? I need it to come from you. I’m afraid he won’t believe me if I tell him I’m not watching him write.”

Neville arched an eyebrow. “Were you watching him write?”

She frowned and turned pink. “It’s just so fucking hard to not watch! His script is so beautiful, and how he makes it flow, ugh, it’s almost erotic.”

He was astounded. “Wow, okay.” He shook his head slightly. “I’ll tell him.”

She smiled and ran her hand along his cheek. “Thank you, Neville.” She bent to kiss him.

Neville avoided her kiss, though. “No, everyone knows you’re with Draco. I’m not ready for people to talk yet. We didn’t even really talk about it all, Hermione. What we want, you know?”

She nodded and pulled away. “Yes, that makes sense. Can we go somewhere later, then? I do want to be with you, Neville. It somehow slipped my mind how well we work together…” She winked.

He chuckled. “Yes. Before dinner? There’s a broom closet on the third floor I’ve been wanting to get someone into.”

She ruffled his hair slightly before walking off, in a way he would always swear was meant to show off the sway of her hips.

Neville thought of Draco’s cock in his mouth and Hermione’s back pressed against his front as he fucked her against the arm of the couch, conjuring the most full-bodied patronus he had yet mustered. “Tell Draco that Hermione gave me her journal until the end of the day and she wanted me to tell you for some reason.” The bulldog bounded off, its entire backside wagging with purpose.

Was his patronus a specific bulldog? Or, was it just the idea of a bulldog? He pondered these questions as he went back to the work party.

Ravenclaw Tower had been only partially toppled by one of the magical trebuchets during the battle. It was still structurally sound, but had been inaccessible until this week, with the rebuilding of the staircases. The rebuilding went quickly with so many volunteers, and at the end, Flitwick climbed out onto the roof to affix the bronze eagle to the pinnacle.

With work complete for the day, Neville made his way to the third floor, hanging out in the hall practicing some non-verbal spells as he waited for Hermione. She appeared finally, breathless after running up the stairs.

“Have you seen Draco this afternoon? I think he’s done something drastic! Can I have my journal back?”

He fished the book from his back pocket and un-shrunk it. “What makes you think something’s happened?”

She had opened to the most recent page and was reading quickly. “He thinks it’s his fault what happened last night!” She threw the book onto the floor with a loud smack. “What the fuck do I have to do to get him to understand! It’s not just him!”

“Hermione!” Neville held her by the shoulders. “What did he say? Why do you think something’s happened? We already knew he blamed himself for the weird sex stuff, but why do you think he did something drastic?”

She huffed and picked up the book, then took off down the hall toward Gryffindor Tower. “He’s written in the fucking triad journal. He said he can’t do it, and it’s too hard, and he can’t be with us! I’m going to find him and RUIN HIM if he’s gone!”

Neville jogged to keep up with her. She was on the strangest tear he had ever seen, and he was genuinely concerned for Draco’s safety in several ways. “Why? If he needs some time to think, he should be able to think.”

Hermione had drawn her wand at some point and rounded on him, almost stabbing him in the eye before he could stop. “Because it’s NOT FUCKING FAIR, Neville! He’s supposed to be HERE.” She took off running now, clutching the book to her chest.

Neville was disappointed that the evening was not going to go the way he had hoped. He ran after her, wand at the ready. Why was _this_ his fucking summer? Defending his friends from his friends?

She let the portrait hole hang open and he rushed through it just behind her. “Go get your journal with him. Maybe he wrote you something that explains what’s going on!”

Neville huffed. “Fine, but you’re giving me your wand until I get back, or I won’t leave. You’re not thinking clearly right now, Hermione.”

She frowned but held out her wand to him. “Fucking go get it, then.”

He took her wand and ran up the spiral staircase. The bed beside Neville’s was cleared of everything that had made it Draco’s. Everything was gone. Draco was really gone. Neville very nearly began to cry, choosing instead to take a quick few pulls from the nearest canteen as he pulled all of his journals from where he stashed them the previous morning, then ran back downstairs.

He handed her wand back to her while she wrote furiously in the DH journal and they sat at one of the study tables. Neville read the message in the triad journal. It was disjointed and bleak, but it did sound like Draco.

_My loves, this is too hard. I hurt you both last night in different ways, and I cannot live with myself, knowing I’ve been so careless. I don’t want to do that again. As lovely as it would be for my dreams of us to come true, I can’t let it happen if it means hurting you like that. I have to fix this thing in myself that is so broken before I can even think about whatever this is between the three of us.  
I’m so sorry, I just can’t be here now._

Neville checked the DN embossed journal. There was nothing there. Draco had not written to him personally. He would be sad about that later. For now, he needed to calm down Hermione, who was practically tearing through the page she was inscribing, such was the fury pouring from her quill.

“Hermione?” She looked up with a start. “We need to eat, Hermione. We can figure out what’s happened to Draco after dinner. He probably told someone where he went. We can ask Professor McGonagall.”

She frowned. “He’s supposed to be HERE, Neville. Why isn’t he HERE?”

He nodded and took the quill from her ink-spattered fingers. “I know. He’s just overwhelmed. He just needs time. After dinner, if he hasn’t responded, you can send a patronus.”

She frowned again and pushed him away to get out of her chair, but then halfway down to dinner, she took his hand and smiled up at him as they walked. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m sorry. I can’t seem to convince myself it’ll be okay.”

He pulled her closer. “I’m not saying it just because I want it to be true, or because I want you to calm down, love. I genuinely think he’s going to be fine, and that he just needs time to sort through everything that happened and how he feels about it. He had a fucking horrible week last week, and as much as he told me or you, I think he must have as much as that and more that he hasn’t told anyone.”

She nodded and leaned her head into him. “I’m just so sick of trying to make things work and having them fail...”

Neville rolled his eyes over her head. “Uh, that’s how most of us normally operate. There’s a whole house devoted to not letting that get you down, you know?”

Hermione sighed and they parted as they entered the Great Hall. “I’m just going to ask Professor McGonagall if she knows anything.”

He followed her, not really trusting that she would handle any news well. It was a good call on his part because she was not well pleased to learn that McGonagall _did_ know where Draco had gone, and was not at liberty to tell Hermione where that might be.

“What do you mean, you can’t tell me, Professor?!!” Neville saw that she was reaching for her wand and snatched it from her hand before Hermione could do anything she regretted. Mysteriously, she did not fight Neville, focusing her fury entirely on the older woman.

Professor McGonagall looked over her spectacles at Hermione. “Miss Granger, if your partner did not tell you where he went, I will not. He is of age, and not required to be here until his medical leave is complete.”

Hermione’s face crumpled. “Can’t you at least tell me if you talked to him? Is he alright? I don’t understand why he left! Is it because of me?! Is that why you can’t tell me? He told you not to tell me?!” She had taken Professor McGonagall’s arm.

Neville looked around. They had drawn quite a lot of attention from the Sunday evening crowd. Harry’s face was twisted in confusion across the room. Neville took her hand from the Headmistress’s arm. “Hermione? Let’s go eat? One of us will send him a patronus when we’re done with dinner, okay?”

She scowled, but allowed herself to be led away. She did not seem to have noticed that her wand was still in his possession. “There better be shepherd’s pie tonight…”

Merlin’s beard, Neville had never been so happy to see that there was shepherd’s pie than when they sat down. Hermione spent the entire meal ranting about Draco’s appearance, much to the confusion and general vibe of discomfort across the table. Harry kept trying to get a word in about how it was probably fine, and Draco would certainly come back when he was feeling better, but Hermione would hear none of it, and actually let fly a series of specially-crafted expletives at her best friend. Neville kept poking her to eat her shepherd’s pie, trying to both get her to eat, and just stop yelling at everyone. Only the first part was successful in any way, but Neville credited the shepherd’s pie more than himself by the end of the meal.

After dinner, the Gryffindor common room was empty, and they checked the journals again. Finding no reply from Draco, Hermione sent the hardiest patronus she could muster out to Draco. “Draco, where did you go? I read your messages, but no one knows where you went. Please let me know you’re safe. Please, just let me know you’re safe…”

With Hermione ensconced in her journal again, Neville sat down beside her to write to Draco himself. He figured that he should show some of the concern he was feeling. It was not so much that he worried Draco was dying or lost somewhere, or even that he had given up on either of them. It was that if anything was ever going to work between Draco and either Neville or Hermione, he had to be a little more clear on what he needed, even if that was just some space to think.

As he began to write, Neville had the brief but urgent desire for a drink. He shrugged it off. He did not want Hermione to know how much he was drinking, and summoning a transfigured bottle of firewhiskey would definitely give her some ideas he wanted to keep out of her mind.

_  
This sounds really dire. Can you tell us you’re alright? We’re just really worried about you after last night and this week and everything. You don’t have to come back, or tell us where you are, or talk about anything you don’t want to. We just want to know you’re safe. A lot happened to you this week, and we just want to make sure you’re safe and okay-er where you are. Please just tell us that._

Hermione put her hand on Neville’s arm when he capped his quill. “That’s really good, Neville. Nothing like my mad rantings.” She showed him the page she had written to Draco. She did seem slightly unhinged, including the sloppy script that was totally out of character for her.

A few others had ventured to sit in the corners of the common room now. There were still far fewer than Neville would expect for a Sunday night, probably just everyone avoiding Hermione and her near-hysteria. He pulled Hermione into one of the more private couches and laid the triad journal open in front of them, casting a muffliato as an afterthought. She snuggled into Neville’s side, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Her voice was very small as she spoke. “Everyone thinks I’m mental after dinner, don’t they?”

Neville nodded and kissed her forehead, stroking gently up and down her arm. “Yeah, they do, weirdo. What do you want him to say, Hermione? It was pretty clear to me why he left, so what else is there, love?”

She swallowed and Neville could hear tears in her voice. “I just want things to be good. I want him to say he just needed space. I want him to say we can try again to be a triad. It just feels like we’re in this weird limbo that makes me so confused. And, angry, too, I guess.”

He held her tight. “We’ll have to wait and see if he says any of that. But, what are you going to do if he doesn’t, Hermione? He especially can’t tell you things he doesn’t know you need to hear. But, if that WAS somehow the end of the three of us, are you going to stay angry like this, indefinitely? Because, I don’t think I can be with you if you have to hold onto this mood.”

She pushed off his chest and looked at his face. His words had clearly done something to her, and now he waited to see what that was. “Neville… I’m sorry. I’ve taken everything out on you. You didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

Neville nodded. “Thank you. Just, I need you to be in this moment with me, not a different moment later, or worse, that sex that went wrong last night. I’m here, Hermione. And, honestly, this is part of what I’m afraid of, being with you and Draco. I’m having to be a weird mediating influence for the two of you and your very intense and confusing dynamic. I didn’t do anything wrong last night, but you’re both punishing me in different ways for what happened.” He had not known this was how he felt until he was saying it now, but oh, this was _very true_.

“If you want us both, Hermione, I need you to be with ME when you’re with me. Whatever you do with Draco, so long as you both want it, I want you both to have it. But, right now, he did a runner, and you still have someone here who you say you like. And, obviously, I’m going through a lot of the same things you are, but you’re putting me through what you’re going through, too.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it.” She snuggled into his side again. “Do you want to talk about how you’re feeling?”

Neville shook his head. “No, I said everything I wanted to say in the triad journal. I’m worried about him. I want to know he’s safe.” He kissed her hair, the head full of little half-curls. They stared at the triad journal for a few minutes, both hoping they would receive a reply soon.

And, they did receive a reply. They both stiffened as the first words began to appear on the page below Neville’s scratchy writing. Hermione tried to lunge for the book, but Neville held her fast.

He whispered as he could not tell if the muffliato had worn off. “Remember, Hermione, he doesn’t like it when you watch him write. Just let him finish and we’ll read it together.”

A moment later, the writing stopped. Hermione broke free of Neville’s hug and grabbed the journal, pulling it to them at an angle they could both read.

_I’m safe at Black House. Please don’t come here. I’ll write again, I promise. I just need space and time._

It was very little of what Hermione had professed to wanting, but she did seem placated somehow. She shut the book when she had read it several times and snuggled back into her position against Neville.

They held each other in silence for a long few minutes before Hermione tilted her head up. She smiled. Neville smiled back. She inclined her head up toward his, just at an angle that they could kiss. But, to Neville it still felt like they should not kiss in so public a space. He knew just the spot, though. “We could go up to mine. Not here, yet. I think Dean and Seamus owe me for all the times they’ve forgotten to muffliato.”

She frowned but nodded. “Okay. It would be nice to be just us. Push everything else out?”

He nodded, gathering up the books and shoving them into her beaded bag, which he assumed had an undetectable extension charm on it as they clattered on some things inside the bag before landing with a thud some way down. He held the bag out to her. “How illegal is this thing?”

She laughed. “Fairly. Although, it’s a bit of an open secret at this point.”

Neville rolled his eyes and ushered her up the stairs to the boys’ dorm. She frowned when she saw the space.

“Which one was Draco’s bed?”

Neville pointed to the bed between the window and his own. She frowned further. “Where is Ron sleeping, then?”

He shrugged. “Probably somewhere with Luna. He hasn’t slept here much since Draco got here.”

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes but said nothing.

Neville was not sure how to make something else happen. Were they about to have sex? That felt wrong right now, with Draco having just left and Hermione in a mood.

She climbed into his bed and reached for him. “Just being together is all I think I can do right now. Come hold me?”

Neville climbed in next to her and drew the curtains around them. They talked about everything Neville had been doing, the plans for the greenhouses, Professor Sprout’s panic attack, Luna’s weirdness about the string, Hermione’s research into the strings, the Black House library, tea with Narcissa, and Lucius’s trial. Neville pulled his tape player out and they listened to David Bowie after Hermione transfigured the headphones into a two-person configuration. 

It felt like a real relationship. Neville felt full in a way he had not felt in quite a while. As Hermione cuddled closer to him and tilted her head up to his, he finally kissed her. It just felt cozy, her warm body against his, fingers splayed around his side. She smelled like fruit and flowers, maybe mango or passion fruit and hydrangea or wisteria.

The kiss deepened, Hermione clutching him and running her hand up his shoulder to curl her fingers into the back of his hair. He did not fully trust himself to keep his hands chaste if his hands roamed, so he held her waist. His tongue dipped into her mouth, massaging against hers, then her tongue dipped into his mouth, mirroring him.

They heard Seamus and Dean in the stairwell and both froze. Neville renewed their muffliato as Hermione twisted and stretched, coming into a configuration where Neville was the little spoon. He never thought of Hermione as tall, but this way made it obvious she had had a growth spurt, her head fitting on his shoulder, his bum fitting into the crook of her hips, and her feet tangled with his.

“How tall are you now, Hermione?”

She snorted. “Oh, probably about five nine or ten? My parents are both fairly tall, and I think I’m as tall as my mother now. Why?”

Neville wiggled back into her. “Just always thought of you as short. But, you fit against me so well, I’m going to have to fix that thought.”

She giggled. “That position against Harry’s couch wouldn’t have worked so well if I was short, Neville…”

He laughed and his cock twitched at the memory. “Fair point.”

He began to doze. It was a lovely bubble of comfort. He rolled over in the night and found she was gone. Too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been feeling very motivated to continue on rewrites or the ideas I have for the auxiliary stories in this AU. If you are enjoying this story, or even just following it as I'm posting, could you let me know? I'd just like to know someone is interested in what I'm writing right now.


	9. Chamomile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The triad has a weird Monday, ending with a discussion, a definition, a blowjob, and a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the nice comments last update. I'm hoping the long weekend will help me get ahead a bit on rewrites again.

July 20, 1998

In the morning, Neville heard Dean and Seamus making heavy breathing and sucking sounds, so he quickly dressed and vacated the room. Ginny was writing at breakfast, so he sat across from her reading the Prophet and they enjoyed a quiet breakfast.

Hermione never appeared for breakfast and was not seen by any of their friends until lunch. That afternoon, she was assigned to their group, rebuilding staircases. She smiled and kissed Neville covertly on the cheek as the group walked to the stairwell near the North Tower they were working on.

Neville smiled and rested his hand on her back as they walked, lowering his voice. “Last night was really nice. When did you leave?”

A wry smile crossed her face. “Oh, just when you started snoring and woke me up…”

He chuckled. “I didn’t know I snored. Sorry.”

“You were also sort of startling every once in a while, like you were surprised or something.” She sighed. “I guess it’s nothing compared to the night terrors I’ve gotten sometimes. Do you ever have those?”

He shook his head. “No, not really, I usually just can’t fall asleep, I think. Ron is the really loud one.”

She frowned. “Hmm, I wonder if it’s any better for him since he’s been sleeping somewhere with Luna? Ginny said she always sleeps better when Harry’s there. Maybe that’s how it is for Ron, too.”

Neville shrugged. “I’m certainly not going to ask him…”

As they worked, the group chatted and gossiped. Ginny swore she had written Draco a howler that morning. Neville had seen Gran write a couple of howlers, and their quiet breakfast was not the way a howler happened. Hermione confessed to felling a few trees to excise her frustration that morning. Neville told everyone the entire plot of Face/Off, including throwing the line about the peach at Hermione in a whisper, just to watch her turn pink and swat at him. They worked almost all afternoon until Dean lost his magical grip on one of the run stones and broke his arm when it fell. They broke for the day then, so Seamus could take Dean to the hospital wing.

Hermione had been writing to Draco in their small breaks, and Neville decided that seemed like a good idea, too. He sat in the common room and wrote what he was feeling most strongly.

> _Dear Draco,  
>  Got your message in the group book. You don’t have to write back if you don’t want to.  
>  I just miss you. I’m not really sure why you left. It felt really sudden, and it sort of feels like it’s my fault. I stopped you two and everything just felt like it fell apart because I was there. I keep wanting to apologise for stopping you. But, it was awful watching her hit you. It was confusing to watch you spank her, but it was really terrible to see you enjoy getting hit in the face like that. What do you get out of that? I want to understand so I can be okay with it. You both just seemed like other people in that moment. It didn’t feel like I was watching Draco and Hermione. It felt like life with the Carrows again.  
>  Do you need that? Is that why you didn’t join us when Hermione and I were having sex on the couch? I keep thinking about what you and I have done together, and it just seems so different from what you did with Hermione.  
>  Are you going to run away every time something bad happens? Did something happen after we went to work yesterday? I just keep trying to put the pieces together and I can’t understand what happened. Hermione lost her shit entirely and I didn’t know what to do. She left this morning and came back a little calmer, but she won’t be comforted.  
>  I don’t expect you to come back or explain everything. I’m just feeling so lost. Despite the stuff that happened, I still want you. I see kindness and goodness in you and I’m afraid you can’t see that in yourself, Draco. I don’t want you to be someone else for me. I just wish I’d gone to sleep or played some more video games or something while you two did what you wanted. I don’t understand it, but it’s obvious you both want that, and I don’t want to be the reason you don’t do it.  
>  Even if you don’t say anything else, can you tell me you got this? It’s not like an owl that comes back with the letter unopened, you know?  
>  Love always,  
>  Neville_

It would have to suffice. Hermione was sitting next to him by the time he finished, writing in her DH journal. He reread what he had written and it seemed so plain. Why was he so bad at expressing himself? Hermione and Draco seemed so interesting when they wrote, like it was just scratching the surface of who they were. But, Neville was just saying what he thought, and it came across that way.

Then, Draco’s script blossomed on the page below Neville’s message.

> _Dear Neville,  
>  I’m sorry. I got your message. I don’t know yet how to explain any of this, even to myself. I’ll try again soon.  
>  Yours, Draco_

It felt more like how Neville talked to Draco. So, maybe that was how their dynamic would be? They would just be straightforward?

Draco had signed it, “Yours, Draco”... That was a nice bit of development. It was certainly no “Love Always” like Neville had said, but it felt true. He did feel like Draco was his. He folded up that feeling and held it in a spot in his chest he could touch when he started to get anxious.

Hermione screeched and bounced in her chair a few minutes later. “Oh! He’s writing back!”

Neville schooled his face into not looking at what Draco was writing back to Hermione. She looked like she had written quite a bit more than Neville had, although, she was also far more upset by the whole thing than Neville was.

“He wants to all write in the triad journal tonight! I’ll tell him yes?” She looked at Neville for confirmation.

Neville frowned. “Why?”

Her face fell.

“I mean, it’s fine, just what happened? He barely said anything to me, and nothing about this.”

She sighed and nodded. “Oh, well, I’m a bit out of sorts from just not knowing what this is between the three of us. Is it a triad now, or what are we doing? Am I with you both? I just need to talk about it. And, Draco isn’t here to talk about it, so he offered to have us all write in the triad journal to get some of it out between the three of us.”

He sighed. “Sure, okay. I guess that makes sense.” Uncharitably, Neville thought to himself that Draco had not known what to say to him at all, but Hermione was getting him to write to both of them. He was definitely the third between them, and this was not really a triad yet.

She smiled. “We can sit next to each other and just write!”

Neville shook his head. “Oh, no. If he’s somewhere else, we’re not sitting where we can just talk to each other! That’s not fair to him at all.”

She frowned. “I didn’t really think of it that way. Okay.”

His stomach rumbled. “Let’s go get dinner. What time are we writing?”

She smiled again. “Eight o’clock.”

The written conversation was very strange to take part in. It took Neville a while to get used to seeing the words of his boyfriend(!) and girlfriend(!) appear on the pages before him, and when he should jump in to say something.

He was slightly put out when Hermione insisted Neville put into words what they should all be, what their relationship should be. But then, he found he just knew what they all were to each other right now. The words seemed to flow out of him in a way he did not recognise. Was this how they said such beautiful things to each other? And, was he infected by it now?

Anyway, they seemed to like what he said. And, somehow they had conspired together at the end there?

> _D: A) You’re right. It’s not fair to make you explain our feelings to us, but we actually were doing a terrible job of explaining how we feel to you and each other. And, you cut out all our shite and got straight to what we all wanted. It would have taken hours to do that between Hermione and me without you. Which is honestly something we need. B) Hopefully I’ve given Hermione enough time to get to the real sucking... Have fun, loves!_
> 
> _N: What do y-------_

Neville’s quill had been snatched from his fingers by a half-naked Hermione. Neville let out a cry that was quickly muffled by Hermione’s searing kiss. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

When the kiss broke, Hermione sighed. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot it is when you just say what needs to be said?”

Neville smiled and shook his head. “No, tell me about it…” He kissed her neck as it was just there, waiting.

As he kissed and licked and sucked down her chest, she explained. “I need you, Neville, because you just say what I need to hear. There’s nothing there that doesn’t need to be there. And, everything you wrote was something I needed…” She whimpered slightly as he pulled her bra strap down with his teeth. “I want your thoughts, Neville. I want to know you.” She pulled his face back up with both hands to stare into his eyes. “I’m falling for you, Neville. I want you to know, I’m falling for you, too.”

She kissed him again, their tongues taking turns playing patterns in each others’ mouths. Then Hermione broke away from him and slid to the floor between his legs. He caressed her face as she reached into his shorts and pulled out his cock. She licked her lips and it bobbed slightly.

This must have been what Draco meant by Hermione getting to the real sucking.

She licked the tip, sending it twitching, then took just the head into her mouth, flicking the underside with her tongue and Neville moaned. Her mouth was so hot, and Neville became harder as soon as her lips wrapped around him. “Nnh, Hermione!”

She whispered a lubrication charm on her hand and began the coordinated movements he loved from her mouth and hands. Holding him in just the right grip and bobbing her head further and further down onto his cock left him breathless. He wanted to be inside her, though, fucking her beautiful pussy so he could make her come with him.

He ran his fingers through her hair and gently pulled her off him. She looked up at him with concern. “Is it okay?”

His cock twitched in her hand. “Yes, I’d just rather get in bed, if that’s alright?”

She crawled up his front to kiss him again. “Of course, lovely man…”

How Hermione and Draco both thought he was so attractive, he would never understand, but he would accept it as best he could.

They crawled into Neville’s bed and drew the curtains, adding several layers of muffliato in case anyone returned to the room. Neville crawled over Hermione and she smiled up at him, pulling him into another searing kiss. Hermione was practically purring beneath him, canting her hips to grind against his hard member, now fully free of any restriction. It slid up and down the satin of her knickers, drenching the knickers in her honey.

Neville loved having this effect on Hermione. She wanted him, moaning and whimpering as he played with her nipples, caressed down her waist, teased her inner thighs, ran a finger up her still-clothed slit. “What do _you_ want, Hermione? I want to hear you moan my name with at least seven syllables…”

She blinked a couple of times as he gently ran his finger up and down her slit. “Nnn, uh, I think, I want...hnn, cock?” She sounded so confused at the end that Neville had to laugh.

“My cock?”

She swatted his chest and laughed. “Yes, of course your cock! That’s what I want. Can I have it?” She bit her lip and pouted, putting on a weird voice. “Please, Neville?”

He snorted and kissed her again. “Who is this character?”

She frowned. “I was just trying to be more sexy…” She frowned harder in an exaggerated way. “I guess it didn’t work…”

He kissed all over her face. “No, because it is the most sexy when you’re you. I like the Hermione who’s just being herself the best.”

He sat back on his haunches and pulled Hermione’s knickers off. She reached for him again as soon as the offending garment was free of her legs.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “I want to do something like the couch, but on our sides? Without having to hold me up, I bet you could play with my clit, too…”

His cock twitched and he groaned. “Mm, I like how your mind works, love.”

They laid on their side, Hermione doing the contraceptive charm. He kissed her neck and she giggled and pulled away slightly. “Stubble! It’s different from this angle… sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be more careful.” He brushed his hand over his chin in both directions, and yes, one was a bit harder than the other.

She tipped her head back to kiss him again. “It was just startling, that’s all.”

He snaked an arm below her waist and with the other, pulled her flush with his erection. She moaned and deepened their kiss. She was _so beautiful_ , he just wanted to make her feel that, too.

He reached down to her clit, circling it slowly with two fingers and dipping down into the pool of her wetness to lubricate a bit more. Hermione panted slightly as she reached back to grasp his member, squeezing it in time with his circles of her clit. She began to tense in his arms.

“That’s it, you can feel how much I need you, beautiful. You’re holding it in your hand. Show me how much you need me… feel how I touch you, just like you taught me, just you and me. I want you, Hermione, I want you in every way. I’m yours, beautiful.” He pressed on her pelvis and sped his circles of her clit. “You’re just Hermione and I’m just Neville. Fall for me, beautiful, fall into it…”

She groaned his name. It seemed to make about four or five syllables. Soon, she pushed his hand away. “Just need a sec before we keep going…” She pulled his arms around her. “You make me feel beautiful, Neville. You really do.”

He buried his face in her hair, the tiny rings tickling his nose. “I’m so glad. I want you to see yourself how I see you, this unstoppable, untamable, fierce and beautiful nightmare of a woman.”

She snorted. “Nightmare? Really?”

He nodded. “Absolutely, it’s part of why I love you.

She turned her head up to him. “I love you too, Neville…” She caught his lips as best she could, reaching back to grasp his cock again. “I’m ready again. I’ll do my clit. It’s just very sensitive still…”

He smiled and shimmied down slightly to slot in where her hand aligned them. He plunged into her and she let out a little gasp as he hit that spot inside her. He held her pelvis like she liked and whispered every dirty thing he could think to say, kissing and licking just under her ear. It felt like his magic was crackling as she gasped. She was close again in a moment and he felt her clenching around him. He would not last long this way, and let go, coming with a long groan as his mouth attached to her neck and she moaned with him. “Nevi-i-i-i-i-i-ille……”

They relaxed as they caught their breath. She snuggled back into him and he sighed, reaching back to hold his head to hers. “That was lovely, my sweet sweet man.”

His head rested against her neck. It was lovely. He had no more words, falling asleep quickly.

He woke again in the night and she was still there, in his arms, twitching in a dream. He squeezed her closer, kissing her hair. She began to whimper. “No, no, I don’t know… it’s nothing, not real, no……”

She struggled violently against him and he let her go, shaking her slightly as he whispered. “Hermione! Hermione, it’s a dream, it’s just a dream, love!”

She screamed, the sound splitting the night. “No! No!”

He shook her shoulder harder. “Hermione! Wake up! It’s a dream!”

She gasped and took a long breath. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

From the other side of the room, Seamus called out. “Is she okay?”

Neville called back. “Just a dream. Sorry.” He reached for his wand and did a passable muffliato.

Hermione was trembling now. She reached for him. “Neville…”

He pulled her into his arms. “I’m here. It was a dream, Hermione.”

She nodded against his shoulder, wetting it with her tears. “It was. But, it was her, just like it really was…” She sobbed.

Neville rubbed her back. “Do you want some light? I find that helps a bit when I have a bad dream.”

She nodded. He grabbed his wand and summoned a small light, blinking as his eyes adjusted. He summoned their pants and they put themselves back together slightly before settling back into a gentle heap.

It was so unfair. She had kept them all alive, saving everyone in so many ways, and now she was tortured in her dreams.

“I think I should take another break, Neville. It’s been a bit much, getting back into everything.”

Neville nodded, running his fingers through her hair as she relaxed into him. “You had a hard couple of days since you got back.”

She nodded. “It’s so hard to know how to stop. I need to learn how...”

As her breathing slowed again into sleep, he slowly let the lumos go and when it was out again, he put his wand back on the bedside table.

Neville slept fitfully the rest of the night. In the morning, Hermione was still there. He could hear Dean and Seamus across the room talking softly. Hermione had also woken and was looking at him, softly running her fingers through his hair.

“Thank you, Neville. It was terrible. Thank you for being here.” She smiled.

He smiled back. “I don’t want to be anywhere else, Hermione.”


	10. Lovage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a largely uneventful rest of the week, Neville visits Black House.

July 21-24, 1998

Tuesday was long and unmemorable. At the end of the day, Neville found a message from Draco in their DN journal. Did he want to come visit Draco? He found he really did. It seemed like it might be an overnight visit, and Neville would really like that, if he was not reading too much into the invitation.

After dinner, he learned that Hermione had also been invited. They decided that Neville would go Friday and Hermione would go Saturday, followed by a visit to the Burrow for a couple of days.

The rest of the week was honestly as boring as Tuesday had been. Neville and Hermione slept together twice more, once just sleeping. It was an odd sensation to just _be_ together. Neville could not tell if she was actually falling for him like he was falling for her, or if she simply gave the love of her friendship and sleeping together freely. He was desperately afraid to ask. It was dangerous to find out in either direction.

The most interesting things that happened that week were not happening to Neville. Draco wrote to him multiple times a day about the goings-on at Black House and his visits to Healer Simons. Or, the sweet things, like visiting Teddy Lupin that Thursday.

> _He’s taken to copying my hair as soon as he sees me arrive now. It’s so strange that I’m related to a baby. And, I love him, like, I want to protect him and help him become a good person. Mother always seemed like she wanted another child, but seeing her with Teddy, I don’t know how that’s possible. She wasn’t exactly the warmest person growing up. That was my elf nanny, Cherry.  
>  Now I’ve gone and made myself sad. Snakeface and Bellatrix killed her somehow. I don’t even know how, as I was at school when it happened. She was the sweetest elf I’ve known.   
>  Sorry. Everything still reminds me of the war. I’m not sure how to stop feeling that all the time._

That night, Neville drank himself to sleep again when Hermione went to hang out with Ginny for the night. He felt like he was doing something wrong. Did he just never want to hear about Draco’s experiences in the war? That made less sense than it should, if he asked himself that way. Was it just a lot, on top of trying to keep his own shit together right now?

And, just what was Neville actually struggling with? It must be something, or why was he drinking alone in Gryffindor Tower instead of talking to someone? Well, if Draco could tell him fucked up things, he could tell Draco fucked up things.

> _I didn’t think I would ever fall for someone. I had this idea that all the cruciatus last year fucked up that part of my head. Then everything with Luna at the beginning of the summer only made it worse. Why couldn’t she be with me, want to be with me, unless she knows I can never give her what she wants?  
>  And, then, why would she keep telling me we’re not meant to be together? And, what am I supposed to do if I can’t be in love ever? And, why did Hermione not want to try a relationship before she left? Am I still just the extra one?   
>  But, now I’ve fallen for you, and Hermione.   
>  Uhhhh, I hate there’s no good way to say both of you, without it being some comparison thing? It’s not! I love you both! I’m in love with both of you! Different! But, I   
>  Fuck, sorry, spilled… Did that fuck up half the page on your end?   
>  I don’t know who I am if I don’t have anything to do. McG---, can’t remember spelling, offered to find me something else to do this summer, but I’m already lonely enough here, what would I do somewhere with fewer people I know? What would I do away from what I know how to do?   
>  I’m just tired of all this uncertainty, but I don’t know what I’d do if I knew something for sure.   
>  Draco, how are you so calm all the time? And, you don’t have to drink? I just don’t know how you manage to live with the things you’ve seen. I’ve barely seen half the shit you have, and my shit just makes me feel so angry and sad and empty. How do you do it? And, how do you deal with it? Being alone? I can’t do it._

Neville must have passed out at some point in the night, because he woke in the morning to sunlight and a horrible feeling that he had said a lot of garbage. He reread his entry in the journal and his stomach turned over and over. He sounded like such a pathetic drunk fucking mess!

And, Draco’s reply some time in the night was so fucking sweet, Neville did not know how to take it.

> _I don’t know how I handle anything. I’ve done a terrible job so far, from my own perspective, but you seem to think I’m doing a good job, as does Healer Simons, so I must not have a great view of it. Which is what I’d say to you, love. You don’t have a very good idea of how you really are, probably? I’ve always thought you’re calm all the time. It’s part of what I’m coming to love about you.  
>  I didn’t know you’re lonely, Neville. You always seem content wherever you are and whatever you’re doing. It’s something I’ve seen about you for years. I guess that’s one of the masks you wear, like I wear.   
>  You’re not fucked up from the cruciatus. I think Luna is a fucking nightmare, which has no bearing on your ability to love. I’m pretty sure she set up the three of us to get together? I’m just not sure how…   
>  Are you alright, generally? I know that’s a weird question to ask after you’ve poured out your drunken heart to your boyfriend, but this is a side of you I’m not sure if I should take with a grain of salt. Can we talk about it when you get here? I just don’t understand why this all came out all of a sudden.   
>  I’m yours. And, I don’t want you to feel like you’re broken or lonely or something. I’m yours, and I’ll be here for you however I can, whenever I can._

Neville skived off work voluntarily for the first time that morning. He was incredibly anxious about going to Black House. He was convinced that Draco was going to insist he stop drinking, as clearly there was something wrong with him. He knew he had no defense for it. He drank to fall asleep, almost every night, especially when Draco or Hermione were not around, but also sometimes when they were around, and he had only the vaguest explanation why.

He fell back to sleep for a chunk of the morning, finding that once he ate and his stomach settled from last night’s correspondence, he was still extraordinarily tired. He felt like a mess as he woke again just before lunch. Hermione had come to find him before he left, jumping on the bed with him and scaring him a little.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready to leave in a couple of hours? Shower and shave and all that?” She ran her hand over his sparse stubble.

He frowned. “I’m nervous. What is Narcissa like?”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Well, since her trial, she’s always been lovely to me. She’s like you think she’ll be, but also kind and considerate?” She cocked her head to the side. “What are you worried about?”

Neville sighed. “I don’t know exactly. I said a lot of garbage last night while I was drunk, and Draco wants to talk about it. And, Narcissa just straight terrifies me?”

She smiled and rubbed his arm. “You’ll be fine. Narcissa is nearly a Master of Herbology, and I’m certain you can just fall back to that if things get awkward.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not the only thing I know about.”

She got a cheeky grin. “Oh, I know. You’ll be fine. I’m just confident you have one subject you can’t possibly run out of things to discuss. She’s just a person, that’s all.”

He nodded. “I guess I should get ready.”

A few hours later, Neville flooed off to Black House. He had had a few swigs of the mostly-empty canteen by his bedside to prepare him for whatever happened.

Draco was sitting in the floo entry reading when Neville arrived. He looked up and smiled widely as Neville got his bearings. “Hello, love!” He stood and stepped into Neville’s space, wrapping his arms around Neville warmly. “I missed you.”

It was practically a confession of love. Neville clutched him. “I missed you, too.” He rested his head against Draco’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Draco nodded and touched his head to Neville’s. “Much better.”

They held each other for a moment and Neville felt the weight of the week melt off him. Draco reached up and stroked his hair. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay, Neville.”

Neville realised he had started crying at some point as Draco’s shirt was wet with his tears. He pulled away and wiped at his eyes. “Merlin, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Draco frowned. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know.” He gestured to the bag slung over Neville’s shoulder. “Do you want to put that away and I can take you on a tour of the house? Mother is at her Spouses of Death Eaters meeting right now, but she’s due back for tea.”

Neville swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Yes.”

Draco kissed his cheek. “She’s excited to meet you, Neville, as much as she’s excited to meet anyone new.”

Neville was led up the stairs. “Why is she excited to meet me? Is it the Herbology thing?”

Draco snorted. “No, you daft man. She knows we’re together, and she wants to know who’s stolen her son’s heart.”

Neville blushed at that, catching himself tripping on the stair. “I have?”

Draco stopped and turned. “Of course you fucking have!”

Neville frowned. “You hadn’t said.”

Draco huffed and pulled Neville further up the stairs and along the hall. “I’ve said everything I can say without it being too soon to say it, Neville!”

Neville shivered with the sentiment. “Oh.”

Draco did a complex unlocking charm and the door before them swung open. Draco pulled him into the room and the door swung closed behind them. Then, Draco was on Neville, pressed against him, lips on lips, hands in his hair.

It was startling for a second until Neville found this was as easy as breathing. His hands found purchase on Draco’s shirt and he pushed it up, hands roaming Draco’s back. Draco’s head dipped to kiss down Neville’s neck, sucking and biting below the collar-line. He began to unbutton Neville’s shirt, trailing a line of bites down as he worked the shirt open. Soon, he was kneeling at Neville’s feet, working his belt and fly open and Neville could only run his fingers through Draco’s hair.

As he ran Neville’s zipper down, Draco gazed up at him. “I’ve been thinking about your cock in my mouth all day. I need you, beautiful man…”

Neville’s cock twitched with the blood flow and the image that flashed in his mind. He pulled his member from its confines, letting his trousers and pants fall to his feet. Draco caught the tip in his mouth immediately, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently.

Neville hissed in a breath at the sensation. It made him feel beautiful to be ministered in this way by Draco. “You make me feel so good, Draco. Beautiful like you see me.” Draco hummed and sucked him deeper, bobbing with abandon. Neville’s hands returned to Draco’s hair and he felt like he was in heaven, moaning as Draco stared up at him.

Slowly, Neville took control of the motions of Draco’s bobbing, and Draco relinquished control easily, caressing Neville’s hand before reaching down to adjust his own tented trousers. “Mm, you like to feel me guiding you, Draco? Show me what this does to you, too…” Draco’s eyes fluttered and he whipped his belt open, lashing Neville’s legs slightly with the force. He took out his cock and began stroking it madly. Neville stuttered in his control of Draco’s head as Draco moaned around him.

Draco’s eyes rolled back slightly in his head and Neville pulled him fully off his cock. “Are you alright?”

Draco looked startled. “Yes, of course. I love this. Are you alright?”

Neville nodded. “You just looked like you were going woozy there for a minute. I wasn’t sure if you had enough air…”

Draco grinned. “Yes, just really loving it…” Draco took Neville’s cock back into his mouth then, sucking it all the way down to the back of his throat.

Oh, that was the real spot Neville felt beautiful. Draco swallowed several times and Neville felt it down to his toes. “Merlin and Morgana, Draco! Yes! Right there…” Neville could feel that Draco had begun to stroke himself again and Neville’s hips began to jerk slightly of their own accord. He leaned into the feeling, holding Draco’s head still as he fucked his mouth, a slight moan escaping Neville. As he got close, he felt the spatter of Draco coming against his bare legs and thrust forward once more, Draco moaning around him, pushing him over the edge. He came with a stuttered moan, Draco swallowing slowly.

As they put themselves back together, Draco led them over to the giant fucking bed in the middle of the room. They kicked off their shoes and trousers, Draco floating them over to drape on a rack in the corner.

They snuggled into each other. Draco kissed Neville solidly on the mouth and Neville could taste himself slightly on the other man’s lips. When they pulled away, Draco smiled. “So, I guess you still want me?”

Neville was hit with a barrage of emotions all at once. “What?” Did Draco think he had stopped wanting him? And was that why he needed to get Neville off as soon as he arrived?

Draco’s face fell. “No, it was a joke? No, I know you want me, Neville…” He reached up to caress Neville’s face, but Neville pulled away.

“I don’t know what to say to that, Draco.” He sat up.

Draco sat up next to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that…”

Neville suddenly regretted everything that happened since they entered the bedroom. “Do I need to prove something? I don’t know what I’ve said to make you doubt I like you, Draco.”

Draco was breathing hard. “No, you didn’t say or do anything to make me think you aren’t in. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. It was a joke and it didn’t even make sense!” He kissed Neville’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Neville looked at Draco’s face. It was open and earnest. “Where did it come from, though? You must have been thinking something for that to have been the first thing you said, Draco.”

Draco shook his head and sighed. “I’ve been alone a lot. And, that’s something I’ve been enjoying, but my stupid brain keeps telling me garbage like if you really wanted me, you would have come after me. Either of you. And, I know I said you shouldn’t, but you also didn’t, either of you.”

Neville was astounded. “What the fuck?”

Draco frowned. “I’m not used to there being no games, Neville. Hermione said earlier this week that you made sure she didn’t come after me. And, my garbage brain keeps presenting that as evidence you don’t want me anymore.” He looked confused and hurt.

Neville had never had an argument with someone this way before. What was he supposed to do with any of this information? He sighed. “I don’t know how to explain this in a way your so-called garbage brain will understand.”

Draco’s mouth twitched in a way Neville read as anxious. “Uh, I mean, it doesn’t matter what you say. That part of me will just make up its own story.”

Neville breathed heavily through his nose. “Okay, well, I’ll just tell the part of you that will listen, then?” Draco nodded. “Yes, of course I fucking kept Hermione from coming after you. Because if she’d gone after you, she was likely to hurt herself or have another fucking panic attack or something, and then I’d have two partners out of commission.” Neville got out of bed and started pacing. “I WAS fucking worried, and it was awful having you run away after what happened, Draco, but I learned to keep my cool after the past year. You probably came here, but did I have entrance here? I entered from the street and then left through the floo. So, was I allowed to come back? And, were you even here? Was I remembering the name of the place correctly? I couldn’t quite remember and I forgot to write it down when I came the first time.” He was breathing hard now.

“And, if I let Hermione go after you, was she going to come back? Or, was I going to be left alone to figure out what happened? Would either of you have remembered to say something to me? You’re a pretty tight little unit together. Would you have gone all dark together again?” Draco’s face went pale at that. “I mean, how was I supposed to know, Draco?! I didn’t know what happened! I still don’t! Hermione said you talked about it and you’ll be fine now, and I shouldn’t worry, but is she just saying that so I don’t worry, or is it true?”

Draco climbed off the bed.

“So, no, I didn’t come after you, and I didn’t let Hermione come after you. And then you seemed fine, so I didn’t come after you, and Hermione seemed fine so she didn’t need to come after you.” Neville was breathing really quite hard now and Draco came up to put his arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Neville. I wish I’d been able to talk about any of it. It just couldn’t. I thought you’d both be fine without me. I needed to be alone. I’m so sorry I worried you.”

Neville felt comforted by Draco’s solid hug in spite of himself. “Okay.”

Draco kissed his shoulder. “I’m sorry this came out this way. I know you want me. I swear.”

Neville sputtered a laugh. “Morgana, I forgot that’s what started me on this!” He drew back to look into Draco’s eyes. “I want you, Draco. I still want you. You just bring this up when that part tries to tell you differently.”

Draco smiled and kissed him briefly. “I’ll do just that...and no more joking about feelings, I swear.”

They remained in the embrace for a bit, just enjoying the feeling of being together.

Just as they began to resume the confines of their trousers for a tour of the house, Draco froze and got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment. “Andromeda and Teddy are here. Shall we go find out why?”

Neville cocked his head for a moment. “Sure. How could you tell?”

They finished putting themselves together and headed down the hall to the staircase. “Well, I could tell someone was here from the wards, but she sent me a Murmur.”

Neville shrugged. “I don’t know that one. Gran’s house isn’t big enough to need it.”

Draco snorted. “And Gryffindors just yell instead, I guess.”

Neville smiled. “That we do, love.”

Andromeda Tonks was a beautiful woman in flowing robes holding a baby who was pointing at one of the portraits as it made faces at him. “Ah, Draco! I was hoping you could watch Teddy for an hour while I run some errands. Just taking you up on your offer, first chance I’ve gotten.” She smiled with a hint of a wink.

Draco’s face crinkled with the breadth of his smile. “I’d love to! Will he need a nappy change or anything? I haven’t done that bit, yet.”

She shook her head. “Shouldn’t need to, no. I’ll be sure to show you next time we’re at the cottage. Dead useful skill for a man, that one.” She looked past Draco to where Neville stood awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Andromeda Tonks! You look terribly familiar.”

Neville ran his hand through his hair, then reached to shake her offered hand. “I’m Neville, Neville Longbottom. Just here for a visit.”

Andromeda’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re Neville! Of course, Draco’s boyfriend! I’m so glad I got to meet you today. I’ll be able to be able to tease Draco about how he managed to get in with not one, but two fantastically interesting and attractive people.”

Draco’s eyes went wide. “Can I get you anything before you go, Andromeda?”

She smiled at him with an oddly coy arch of her eyebrow. It reminded Neville of pictures of Narcissa. “I see. I’ll leave Teddy with you, then. I’ll be back in an hour. Just delivering to Hogwarts and stocking up at the apothecary.” She kissed Teddy on the forehead and passed the squirming boy to Draco, then popped out of the room with a crack of apparition.

Draco sighed. “Sorry about that. She seems a bit of a hurricane sometimes.”

Neville smiled. “It’s fine. She’s clearly happy to have someone to tease, after Tonks and her husband…”

Teddy had apparently noticed that Draco was the one holding him as suddenly, the baby’s hair was the same clear blond as Draco’s. “Ahh-ah!”

Draco smiled and kissed the baby’s head. “That’s right, Ted. Blond is the best hair color.”

Teddy swung his arms wildly. “Ahhhhhh.”

Neville realised he had really never been around any babies, either. What would they do with Teddy for an hour?

Draco held his hand out to Neville. “Let’s go to the garden. He really likes the plants at Andromeda’s, and Mother has some he’ll like to touch.”

Neville shrugged. “Sounds good.”

They made their way out to the back of the house and entered the largest library Neville had seen outside Hogwarts. It made him feel small. “Merlin’s beard, this is a lot of books.”

Draco laughed. “Yes, and Mother is also building the collection further. We’ll have to find some more space soon or do an extension charm.”

Neville could not seem to take in the space at all. “Hermione must get lost in here every time she’s over.”

Draco nodded, something indecipherable crossing his face. “The garden is just out this way.”

They opened the large French doors and stepped out into the afternoon heat. The garden was as impressive to Neville as the library had been. He could already see several types of plants he had been coveting.

The trio wandered around for the hour, Neville pointing out different things to Teddy and Teddy waving his arms with an excited ahh as Draco’s face was plastered with a wide grin. It was lovely. Babies were not as confusing as Neville had expected.

Andromeda returned just when she said she would and met them in the garden. “Everything go okay?”

Draco handed the vaguely fussing Teddy to her. “He seems a bit tired, but he’s been a trooper.”

She smiled. “Well, we’ll get out of your hair.”

They returned to the floo entry and Draco kissed her cheek and Teddy’s head. “I’ll see you soon, Andromeda.”

She kissed him back. “You too, Draco.” She went to Neville and kissed his cheek. “It’s lovely to meet you, Neville. I hope to see you again soon as well…”

Then she was gone and Draco turned to him.

“Mother is supposed to be home soon. She wants to have tea and get to know you. Are you up to that? We could fuck off into the city if you prefer.”

Neville frowned. “No, I think I’d like to get to the awkward bit and get it over with.”

Draco’s eyebrow cocked in confusion. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you, though.”

Neville sighed. “Yes, I know, but she’s Narcissa Malfoy… She’s been terrifying to think of for the past seven years. The fact I like YOU doesn’t change who SHE’S been.”

Draco’s mouth twitched. “I swear, if she hadn’t changed, I wouldn’t have asked you to come, Neville. I would have gone to the castle for the weekend or gotten a hotel or something.”

Neville felt his heart melt just a little at that. He nodded with a little smile. “Alright. Where in this massive house is the one devoted to having tea, then?”

Draco called for an elf. “Mimo, we’ll have tea in the blue parlor. Mother should be home soon. Please make whatever she has been enjoying lately.”

Mimo nodded and popped out of the room.

“How many parlors are there that you have to specify?” It was Neville’s turn to cock an eyebrow.

Draco smirked. “Three or four, depending on how you classify parlor versus sitting room.”

Neville frowned. “How many sitting rooms are there, then?”

Draco waggled his eyebrows. “That depends on how you classify a sitting room versus a parlor versus a lounge…”

They were standing quite close and Neville pulled him into a hug. “I like you, Draco Malfoy. Have I mentioned that recently?”

Draco clutched him tightly and Neville could feel him smiling into his shoulder for several long moments. “I like you, too, Neville Longbottom. I have maybe never actually told you that. I like you so much, and it feels like… I don’t even know… I just don’t want to let go.”

There was a polite feminine cough from above them. They leaped apart and looked up the stairs to find Narcissa looking over the balcony at them. “Hello, Draco. Mimo tells me you’ve ordered tea to the blue parlor?” She descended the stairs in such a liquid motion, Neville would have sworn she was literally floating if she had been wearing anything more billowing than her smart trouser suit.

When Neville finally tore his eyes from Draco’s mother, he saw that Draco had adopted the same mask from the day his mother appeared at the castle for the Slytherin dormitory work. It was colder than Draco’s everyday mask.

“Yes, I did, Mother. A more intimate setting seemed better for introductions than the grand parlor, and you know I hate the wallpaper in the yellow parlor.

Narcissa smiled. “Quite true, Draco.” She held out her hand to Neville as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Neville.” She continued to hold out her hand to him, but was she offering to shake hands, or did she want Neville to kiss her hand? It was impossible to tell from the angle she held it out…

Forced to make some choice, Neville took her hand and bowed over it, kissing it. It was immediately clear that a kiss of the hand was not what she had intended, as Draco sputtered out a short laugh and Narcissa had frozen for a split second. He stood up straight and backed away, face hot with what was surely a beet red. “I’m so sorry, Mrs Malfoy. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know why I did that…”

She let out what seemed like a nervous giggle. “Oh no, now you’ve kissed me, please, call me Narcissa!” Her laughter mixed with Draco’s, creating a bell-like peal in the marble-lined entry.

She reached for Neville’s hand again and shook it like a normal fucking person would. “Again, it’s so nice to meet you, Neville…” She took his arm and led him through a door to the next room, although it was not the one Neville had been put into for obligatory refreshment on his first visit.

Draco hurried on ahead and pulled out the chair for his mother at the small table set with tea service. As they all settled in and the tea was poured, Neville managed to calm down from his social gaffe. Draco gave him an encouraging squeeze on the leg and a nod of confidence.

“So, Neville, Draco tells me very little about you other than that you enjoy Herbology and are particularly adept at the construction sticking charms. It’s a bit odd he has so little so say of you, as you are involved. What do you like to do in your spare time?” Narcissa had a pleasant neutral smile on her face, which was a bit terrifying as Neville had never seen her look any of those three things before today.

He took a shaky breath. “Well, I’ve been reading some muggle mystery novels lately. Have you heard of Agatha Christie?” Narcissa seemed to be searching her memory. “There’s this really brilliant detective, Pwah-roh?” Neville looked to Draco to see if he had gotten the pronunciation right this time and was relieved when Draco gave a tiny nod and a smile. “He’s always getting invited to houses where murders happen and such. I’m not very good at figuring out what the solution is, but they’re pretty fun anyway.”

Narcissa seemed interested. “Is it always murder? There are certainly other mysteries than just who killed someone, aren’t there?”

Neville frowned. “So far, I think they’re all murder. I think it’s all murders because then it’s just one solution, and maybe it can happen again if they don’t find the person, you know? Then, there’s the fact that it’s about bringing closure to someone who’s died and their family.”

She nodded. “Interesting. I would imagine there’s a lot of black and white morality in that type of book. I can see how that would be comforting after the past few years.”

Draco blanched. “It’s just a book series, Mother. You don’t have to read into it so much…”

Neville shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I can’t honestly disagree that that’s why I’ve been enjoying them this summer. Living at school under Snape and the Carrows was awful and there was a lot of gray morality, if you want to put it that way. And, yeah, reading books where there’s a straightforward answer presented by someone I like and trust is really nice.”

A shade of smugness crossed Narcissa’s eyes before she smiled again and sipped her tea. “Have you read any of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? I understand he’s quite a popular mystery writer. He was also a pain in my grandfather’s side for much of their youth.”

Draco had infrequently looked more confused. “What?! Arthur Conan Doyle of Sherlock Holmes?! What are you talking about?” His voice had not sounded so shrill and prattish in years. Neville was fascinated.

She smiled in a more genuine way, some of that pleasant-only mask melting away. “Oh yes, you see, they had known each other as boys, but then Grandfather went away to Hogwarts and Sir Arthur went to medical school. But, Sir Arthur seemed to think something of Grandfather, so sometimes showed up in his life at odd moments. As a muggle, he was, of course, not allowed to know about magic, and Grandfather was terrible at doing anything the non-magical way, so he was constantly on the verge of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Grandfather sometimes ranted about how he had never wanted a muggle friend after beginning Hogwarts, but somehow Sir Arthur always managed to find him, acting like they were still such good friends, and ignoring all social cues to the contrary. As I said, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a pain in his side.”

Draco’s eyes were wide. “I have never heard this story before. How have I never heard this story before?!”

Narcissa laughed. “I don’t know. I think we have a few signed copies of his books in the library, if you enjoy his work. I never much cared for them. That Sherrick Homes always seemed so severe. And distractingly in love with his friend.”

Neville smiled. “It’s Sherlock Holmes. And, I don’t know that I’ve ever thought of Sherlock as being in love with anyone, including Watson.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you really should read it again with an eye to that. I was obsessed with relationships, so I saw them everywhere, but even Grandfather thought there was something ‘a bit poncey’ about, Holmes is it?”

They continued their conversation pleasantly until it finished in a startling display of Narcissa and Draco standing in unison after some unseen cue. Neville scrambled to stand as that seemed to be the thing they were doing now. Narcissa kissed Draco’s cheek and bade good evening to them.

With that, Narcissa was gone and Draco slumped into his chair, downing the end of his tea. “That was stressful.”

Neville’s eyes went wide. “What? You said she was looking forward to meeting me! Why was it stressful for you!?”

Draco bit his lip. “Well, if you were nervous, or thought she was just doing it out of obligation, you’d have been a mess!”

Neville threw his hands up. “She was just doing this out of obligation?!”

Draco grabbed both of Neville’s hands, perched on the edge of his seat. “No! No! She was really happy to meet you! I didn’t lie at all! I’ve just never introduced anyone to her as anything other than my friend! That’s what was stressful. Not you. Never you.”

Neville looked into Draco’s eyes. He seemed pained, and entirely in earnest. “Not me?” Draco shook his head. “Do you think she liked me?”

Draco’s eyebrow and mouth danced a little as he searched for the right words. “I think so. She’s a woman of specific tastes, despite being able to converse on most subjects. I think I’m mostly surprised you didn’t talk about your shared special interest, but I guess there’s always next time.”

Neville nodded. “Okay. What’s next for today? Not Lucius, I hope?”

Draco blanched. “No, not him.” He sighed. “Not him, not ever.”


	11. Marjoram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville's visit to Black House continues with an intense early-morning interlude and concludes with a momentous trip to the local pizza shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the nice comments on the past few chapters! I'm definitely going to finish the story, that was never an issue, but I'm slowing down the updates until I finish my rewrites. It's just very difficult to go to a job and do all the necessary adulting and have the emotional space to do the rewrites how I want to, in the middle of everything happening in the US right now.

July 24-25, 1998

The couple spent the evening out at a muggle Indian restaurant several blocks away that Draco had been wanting to try. Neville had never eaten Indian food, and found he liked the spiciness of the sauces. Draco had not understood how spicy everything would be, and had to remove himself to the toilets several times to cast cooling charms on his mouth. Fortunately, at the end there was a creamy sweet iced milk and nut concoction that helped more than any of the cooling spells.

When they returned to Black House, Draco took a potion to settle his stomach and they watched some of a very dark and intense detective show on Narcissa’s telly as she was out somewhere for the evening. After the show ended, Neville found he was just very very tired, so they simply fell asleep in Draco’s giant plush bed.

Some time in the night, Draco woke screaming and thrashing in the bed beside Neville. “Can’t… No! Can’t… Protect him!”

Neville bolted upright in bed, fully awake in a second. He reached for Draco. “Draco! It’s a dream! You’re okay!”

Draco screamed a high-pitched scream and writhed as if in pain. “Didn’t… Please! Not her!”

Neville shook him hard, having to wrestle him slightly to keep a grip on Draco’s shoulders. “Draco! Wake up! Draco!”

Draco gasped and opened his eyes, pushing Neville away with several hard, chaotic slaps. “No! No!”

Neville backed away, sitting back on his haunches. Draco heaved with sobs. “It was you… instead of Hermione… on the floor! And, then you were gone like she was gone, and he was punishing us again… And, I couldn’t stop him from torturing Mother, just like last time!”

Neville reached for him again, holding just one shoulder in the bare light. “I’m sorry, Draco. It sounds terrible, but it was just a dream.”

Draco took a shaking breath in and out, over and over, until he had calmed down. He rested his head against Neville’s chest. “It was terrible, but it wasn’t just a dream. The only part that wasn’t a memory was you on the floor of the drawing room.”

Neville stroked his hair. “I’m sorry. We all made it, Draco. I’m here, and Hermione is at school, and you’ll see her tonight.”

Draco clutched him. “I love you, Neville. I’m sorry I ruined your sleep like this.”

Neville’s heart soared. Was that the first time Draco said that? He wracked his brain. It must be the first time. Neville kissed his head. “I love you, too, Draco. It’s okay. I’m just glad I could be here to comfort you.”

Draco looked up, his eyes shining. “Are you okay, Neville? I’ve never woken up to you screaming, but you seem to drink quite a lot?” He frowned and looked away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to ask about this.”

Neville sat back and curled around his legs. “I’m okay usually. Whiskey just seems to help me avoid the nightmares everyone else has, I think. Sex seems to do the same. I hate the way sleeping potions make me feel like I died for eight hours. Drinking is just easier to handle, and if I’m hungover, I take a potion in the morning and feel alright again.” He sighed. “I know I’m doing a bad job at telling anyone about myself this summer, but there just isn’t much. I’ve had nightmares, but not many. It’s mostly Crucio or the Battle. I don’t know why I don’t have the same problems as everyone else does this summer, but right now, the whiskey is working, I think.”

Draco sighed and rested his head against Neville’s shoulder. “What about the stuff you wrote the other night? You’re lonely? And, you don’t know if you have it in you to love? That was a bit devastating to read from the man I’m falling in love with…”

Neville barely shrugged. “I don’t know. Hermione went off to spend time with Ginny and I WAS feeling lonely. And, Luna’s really fucked with my head, you know? She’s so weirdly sure about everything that’s going to happen. She’s convinced we couldn’t be happy together, just trapped. It just made me think there was something wrong with me, like I couldn’t really be what anyone wanted me to be, if my soulmate didn’t want me?”

Draco nodded against him. “I’ve sometimes felt that way from what Hermione’s said, you know? Soulmates always felt like the gift that fate gave you, the person who could make you most happy. But, I don’t know if I believe that anymore, and I’m not sure what’s replaced it, after reading everything I can find on soul string theory. You know, she wrote to a couple of the authors of the books, trying to find out what they know. I think she’s planning to find a way to twine the three of us together after the whole Room-severing thing.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, she’ll just mold the world into the image that works for her.” He sighed. “I think I’m really sad I’ll never get to experience the fulfilled soul bond. Luna won’t even give me a chance.”

Draco breathed out in a huff. “What is her deal, I wonder? Like, she grew up with the same string stories we all did, didn’t she want to feel it just once, too?” He huffed again. “I just don’t like that she’s hurting you like this. And, it sort of feels like she’s manipulating us all somehow?” He laid back and pulled Neville into his side.

“Do you still think she’s set up the three of us? What made you think that?” Neville threw a leg over Draco’s body, curling around him.

Draco grazed his fingers over Neville’s bare arm. “Mm, well, the things she’s said to us all, especially you, make it seem like she knew we’d get together if everything lined up just right. Like, the fact that she just sat by drinking her tea when her father attacked me, and then gave me those dreams. Or, the fact that she poked at me about the wall, and Hermione about her stress. And, everything she’s said to you about both me and Hermione? It’s like she knew that you would be happiest with us, and she made that happen.”

Neville’s mind reeled. Of course that all made sense, but bloody hell, Luna was playing a desperate game with all of their lives. What if it never paid off? What were they all supposed to do about this thing between them? Or, what if the severing did not work how Hermione thought it did?

“Hey, it’s okay. Neville?” Neville was breathing heavily. “What’s wrong?”

Neville’s voice came out with an unexpected wail. “Why do we keep having to do all of this shite?” He panted, finding he was crying. “Life was supposed to be okay after the war, wasn’t it?”

Draco held him closer. “I think it was, yeah. I’m sorry this is happening to us, Neville.”

Neville sobbed gently. “It’s not fair. We did our part. We should be allowed to just BE!”

Draco clutched him and nodded, pressing Neville’s face into his chest. It did feel nice to be held like this while he was upset. Draco’s arms held him, rubbing his back as he calmed. Draco’s arms felt so safe.

He laughed aloud at the thought.

Draco pulled away slightly, wiping Neville’s tears away with his thumb. “What’s so funny?”

Neville looked at Draco’s face in the slight light from the window. “I was just thinking about how Draco Malfoy’s arms feel so safe, and what a strange thought that is, with everything you were to me before.”

Draco chuckled. “It’s no stranger than how I felt having Neville Longbottom fuck my face this afternoon.” He sighed with a sort of wistfulness. “One of the hottest moments of my life, I think.”

Neville’s face felt hot. It had been one of the hottest things he had ever done, too. It had felt amazing to have Draco give him control like that. He looked into Draco’s eyes, very close to his. There was something ineffable there. “Draco, do you feel safe with me, too?”

Draco pulled him into a searing kiss, then. It felt like Draco was saying it all with that kiss. He did feel safe with Neville. He trusted Neville in a way he did not trust himself. He would give Neville anything he asked, knowing that Neville would only ask for things Draco _could_ give.

As Neville broke away, angling Draco’s head up so he could access the soft skin on his neck, Draco moaned. “You’re a rock for me, Neville. I need you.” He ground his hips into Neville’s and Neville could feel how much Draco needed him.

Neville reached into Draco’s shorts and pulled out his turgid member. “Like this? You need me like this?” He pulled his own cock from his shorts and held them together. Draco reached down and held them together from the other side, hand slick with a sudden lubrication charm. It felt incredible, their cocks sliding together as they stroked up and down, pulling moans from each other as they kissed and sucked all around each other’s necks and shoulders.

As Neville popped off Draco’s neck after an especially long suck, Draco threw back his head and cried out as if in pain, “N-Neville, I need you to fuck me, please!”

Their cocks twitched against each other. Neville licked his lips. “How can I refuse, when you ask so incredibly nicely?”

He released their cocks and hitched Draco’s legs open on either side of his. He reached for his wand and mumbled a cleaning spell, then a lubrication charm on his fingers and cock. Draco continued to slowly stroke them together as Neville prepared. He placed his middle finger at Draco’s entrance and smoothly inserted it up to the second knuckle. Draco let out a shuddering breath and slowed the stroking. Neville fucked in and out with one finger, going deeper and deeper, feeling the springy smoothness of Draco’s prostate. He added a second finger and Draco’s strokes slowed.

“Merlin, you like to prepare a guy well…” Draco licked his lips. “You can move on to the main event whenever you’d like. I’m plenty ready, love.”

Neville nodded, embarrassed somehow. “Sure. I mean, I’ll need a lot more preparation when it’s my turn.”

Draco smiled and arched an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, when it’s your turn for this, I’ll get you so loose with everything by my cock, you’ll beg me to fuck you…”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if I need _that much_ prep.” He withdrew his fingers and gave them a brief cleaning before hitching Draco’s hips up even more and aligning with Draco’s hole. Neville teased him by running the head up and down the crack. Draco reached down and spread his cheeks even wider.

“Please, Neville. I want this…” Draco had bitten his lip and his cock was waggling up and down of its own accord.”

Neville lined up and pushed slowly inside, a moan breaking from Draco in a long, low whimper. “Like this?”

Draco’s eyes were closed and he nodded. “Uhhhh-hhhhhhuuuuuuuuhhh…”

Neville continued to push in slowly, feeling the tight muscles of Draco’s body envelope his cock in heat. As he reached his depth, he leaned down over Draco and kissed him, sucking Draco’s bottom lip into his mouth, then wrestling their tongues together as Draco panted below him. He pulled gently out and then thrust back in, with Draco trying to clench around him, somehow. Neville gently fucked in and out, feeling more than any other time he had ever had sex that they were making love. It was overwhelming in a way he had never expected. “Draco, I love you! I love you. I need you. In every way, I need you…”

Draco nodded, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping Neville’s forearms. “Yes, I need you too, Neville… I love you! Go harder!”

Neville snapped his hips harder on the thrusts and the sound Draco made was otherworldly. “You like that, beautiful man? You like how my cock pulls pleasure from your body?”

Draco made a noise of agreement and Neville began stroking his cock.

“You like how you can feel me so deep inside you? How we get to make each other feel so good? You like how all you can do is sit back and feel what I’m doing to you? Because you like to give yourself to me, because you’re mine, Draco. You’re mine.”

Draco nodded, panting, clutching Neville’s thighs as they flexed with the deep thrusting. Neville could feel how close they both were and leaned over to whisper the only word he could think coherently now. “Mine!”

And, Neville came with a groan. “Mi-i-i-ine……” Draco was still panting, whimpering as Neville continued to thrust into him and redoubled the strokes on his cock when he had recovered a little.

Finally, a moment after Neville had come, Draco threw his head back and his whole body tensed with a high stuttering whimper. “Yes!” Neville’s mouth latched onto Draco’s clavicle and he sucked hard, feeling Draco twitching below him and feeling the sticky heat between them as Draco came.

As they both relaxed, Neville’s cock slipped from the beautiful heat of Draco’s body and Draco pulled Neville down flush on top of him. Neville still felt safe. So safe.

Draco kissed the top of Neville’s head. “I really liked how possessive you got, Nev.” There was a smile in his voice. “It makes me feel so good to be wanted like that.”

Neville smiled into Draco’s neck. “I’m glad. I really do want you like that. As strange as last weekend was, I liked what you said about knowing we want you. I don’t have that feeling yet, but I’m sure it’ll come.”

There was a frown in his voice now. “Neville, what can I do to make you feel that from me? To make you know I want you?”

He propped his head on Draco’s chest to look into his eyes. There was sadness and anxiety there. “I don’t know that you can do anything specific. I’m just waiting to feel like I’m equal to what you two have, with either of you. There’s something about our dynamic that makes me feel like I’m just also here.”

Draco pushed back to sit up again and Neville sat next to him, cleaning their chests quickly. “I don’t understand. I’m doing everything I can to make it so you’re equal for me. I even asked you to come for a visit first? Is part of it that Hermione and I are soul bonded?”

Neville sighed and rested his head against the headboard, noticing that the first indications of morning had come. “No, it’s not just the soul bond, or the fact you got together first. You two have this thing that I don’t think I’ll ever understand. You’re both just so intense with each other? And, it feels like if you two were just the two of you, you’d be happy like that, too. I just feel like I’m superfluous.” He swallowed and hoped he had used that word right. “You need Hermione. And, Hermione needs you. But, do either of you really need me? Outside of a moment, or sex, I’m extra, and I don’t know that I’ve ever been anything else to anyone.”

Draco breathed out through his nose in a huff. “Do either of us need you? Yes! What the fuck, Neville? You’re not extra! I needed you so much I risked things with Hermione! She wasn’t necessarily going to say yes, please be with us both! I wasn’t happy with only Hermione. Don’t you remember what I said that day at the fish shop? I don’t feel like Hermione is the only person for me, Neville. No matter how much I thought about her, I was almost never thinking only about her. Since I returned to Hogwarts this summer, I have not been able to stop thinking about YOU, Nevillle! You!” He was breathing heavily from his rant.

Neville thought of how it had felt having Draco there since the end of his trial. It had been incredible, honestly. He felt like he had a best friend for the first time. And, he remembered that day at the fish place, how Draco had seemed so torn between Hermione and someone else.

Merlin’s balls, Draco had been talking about Neville that day! Neville was the mysterious other person Draco felt drawn to!

“It was me? That day? You wanted to talk about soul strings and Hermione and the other person you felt like that with, it was me?”

Draco sighed. “Yes. It’s you. I feel like I need you both. I do actually really need you both. I may have whatever intense thing with Hermione, but that’s because it’s partly what SHE needs from me right now, and partly that I’m still working through the garbage my father left in my mind. But, it’s not the only thing I need, Neville.” He grasped Neville’s hand. “I need someone strong and stable, and calm and thoughtful. I need you, Neville. I need all the things you are so I can also feel normal. Because as much as Hermione wants to be Just Her and Just Me, and I assume, Just You, that’s a fantasy with her.”

Neville sighed and nodded. “Sometimes it is Just Us, but you’re right. She’s Hermione Motherfucking Granger, and there is no way to forget that every moment you’re with her.” He frowned and looked at Draco’s eyes. “Please let’s never ruin that fantasy for her. She deserves it, and it makes sense she needs that.”

Draco lightly smacked Neville’s chest and scoffed. “No, never! Morgana’s tits, it would ruin her. I’m not sure exactly how she found that to fixate on, but I will defend that need of hers to its dying breath.” He snuggled closer to Neville. “But, with you, it’s not a fantasy exactly. It just feels like we’re normal together.”

Neville nodded. “Yeah, but that’s what it feels like for me with Hermione, though. It feels like we’re just together, just like a normal couple. I love her, and I love you, and I want normal, don’t get me wrong. But, I’d also like to feel like I’m special in some way? I think I do sort of feel special with you, knowing how you absolutely PINED over me all summer…”

Draco nodded. “That’s fair. I’m very good at making myself feel special, so I don’t need anyone else to do that for me. And, the world makes Hermione feel too special. We’ll just have to find a ritual to make you feel extremely cool and exclusive.” He poked Neville in the cheek as he saw the smile crossing Neville’s face. “I’ll figure it out…”

Neville kissed him and they snuggled back down into the covers again, falling back to sleep until the sun was high in the sky.

They simply skipped breakfast, opting instead to head out to the hole-in-the-wall pizza place that was apparently all the rage with wizards in their tiny neighborhood. While Joseph was overly excited to meet Neville, learning he was friends with both Draco and Draco’s girlfriend Hermoony(!??) set Joseph over the edge. Their slices and sodas were on the house! Just be sure to let Draco’s mother know!

As they sat and ate, Neville would not let go of the topic of Narcissa. “Don’t forget, Draco. It’s very important. You have to tell her…”

Draco kicked him under the table. “Oh, I won’t forget. You’re as bad as Potter with this…”

Neville waggled his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t have told me what Harry said, though.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Hmm, the proprietor is so obvious, even you Gryffindors know his interest.”

Joseph had a coughing fit then and came out from behind the counter when he had recovered. “Did you say Gryffindor, boys?”

Neville had never been remotely close to breaking the Statute of Secrecy. His eyes went wide and he sent a pleading look to Draco who could surely get them out of this.

Draco gave the briefest nod and took a sip from his straw as his brow arched. “Why, Joseph? Have you heard of that before?”

Joseph looked anxious. “It’s been quite a long time, but yes, I know Hogwarts.”

Neville’s confusion was clear on his face. “How?”

The older man frowned. “I had a sister who went there. She was in Gryffindor. Died in Eighty-One along with her husband and his whole family.”

Neville’s voice was quiet. He knew so many stories from his Gran about the year after he was born. “What was her name?”

Joseph looked at Neville. “Marlena Gasconi, but she married a man named McKinnon.”

Neville’s voice caught in his throat. “M-Marlene McKinnon? She was friends with my parents…”

Draco’s eyes were wide with sadness.

Joseph smiled and clapped Neville on the shoulder. “We’re almost like family, then, Melville!”

Draco shook his head. “It’s Neville, Joseph. Nev-ille.”

Joseph contemplated that. “Nelville, Nevville, Neville…”

Neville nodded with no idea how to handle _any_ of what was happening right now. “Marlene McKinnon was your sister, though? Do you know what happened to her?”

Joseph looked serious again. “As much as those magic police would tell, what do they call us, muggle? They told me whatever they could tell a muggle. Bad men came and killed them all. As if I don’t know there’s more going on than just a random attack. They don’t know what she told me. I kept secrets.” His voice dripped with emotion. “I never tell, no matter what. That’s what she said, so I never told. I know his name, too, what’s-his-name, she tell me I never say it, and I know I never say it.” He had that determined look, like he had been in Gryffindor himself instead of his sister.

Draco and Neville shared a look. Draco cleared his throat. “Are you saying you were the secret keeper for someone in the first war with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?”

Joseph gave a tiny nod. “I never told.”

Draco sighed. “I’m glad. You’re a good man, Joseph.”

Joseph beamed. “Draco, I thank you. So, you two go to Hogwarts, yeah? I thought you’d be out by now? Very old, the two of you to still be there. Both men now.”

Neville frowned and shared another look with Draco. “Well, we, uh, missed a lot of last year because of the war.”

Joseph looked confused. “There was another war? When? Why?”

Neville chewed his lip. “Uh, the same guy apparently hadn’t died in Eighty-One, and came back to take over again.”

“Oh, that’s bad news. Hard to hear. What can I do?”

Draco shook his head. “Oh, nothing now. He was defeated in May. It was called the Battle of Hogwarts because it happened at school.”

Joseph nodded. “And, you two fought the bad monster guy, I bet!” His face lit up. “Oh, and you know Hermoony and Harry! I bet they were there, too!”

The two wizards panicked in unison. “No!”

Draco shook his head so hard, his fringe escaped and fluffed out over his forehead. “She wasn’t there. She’s a muggle! Like you! Harry, too! Promise you won’t mention this to them. They won’t understand.”

Joseph nodded sagely. “I see, I see. I promise I won’t tell them about Hogwarts.”

Draco shook his head. “Thank you. Not a word. I had to tell her I go to Gordonstoun. Same area.”

Neville frowned. He had no idea what that was. He shoved the end of his pizza into his mouth to give himself something to do.

Joseph was still nodding. “Sure, sure. I’ll keep it to myself. But, you fought the bad guy, you both?”

They both nodded, their shared look agreeing that it would be better to leave out Draco’s complicated involvement in the battle. Neville swallowed. “Yes, we fought the bad guy and now he’s dead for real and forever.”

Joseph clapped them both on the back. “Just what I like to hear!” He smiled again. “What about lovely Narcissa? If you’re magic, she must be magic, or know about it, yeah?”

Draco sighed and quirked his mouth into an uncomfortable smile. “Yeah, but I’ll let her tell you which.”

Neville snorted. Joseph looked dazed.

Draco took their now-empty plates to the bin and made a head gesture at the door to Neville behind Joseph’s back.

Neville smiled. “Joseph, it was nice to meet you, but we’ve got to head out now. I’ll see you another time.”

Joseph pulled Neville into a huge embrace. “Yes, we’re family, you know Marlena.”

Neville could not have been more uncomfortable. “Sure… See you…”

They finally managed to leave the shop. As they turned off the high street, Draco took Neville’s hand. “That was close. Hermione has a lot of feelings wrapped up in that shop and I don’t want her to lose that.”

Neville scrunched up his face in confusion. “I don’t get what is the big deal about that place. How does he know Hermione and Harry?”

Draco explained what Hermione had told him about hiding out in Twelve Grimmauld and getting pizza constantly.

“So, Harry’s house is really close, then?”

Draco cackled. “Oh, I forgot to point it out when we were in the garden with Teddy yesterday, I guess.”

When they got back to Black House, they did take another trip into the garden so Neville could be confused about seeing into Harry’s kitchen.

Narcissa was already in the garden, tending to a few of the magical plants. “Draco, darling, are you going to stop marvelling over our proximity to Twelve Grimmauld soon?” She had a small small of consternation.

Her son rolled his eyes. “Neville didn’t know how close we were!” He cut himself off before it turned into a full-on whinge. “Oh, one thing I need to tell you, Mother. At Joseph’s today, we found out his sister went to Hogwarts. Marlene McKinnon nee Gasconi? I expect she was a bit off from your years. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know he’s going to try to find out if you’re a muggle or a witch. He asked after you. And, apparently,” Draco rolled his eyes again, “he's asked about you to Harry as well.”

She looked amused. “Joseph the pizza shop owner is interested in me?”

“Yes, Mother.” Draco sighed.

“So, you accidentally said something about magic and he knew what it meant?”

Draco and Neville nodded.

“How much did you tell him?” She had one eyebrow arched.

Neville sighed. “Just that we’re at Hogwarts, and that there was a war that ended in May with the same players as the one that got his sister and her husband’s family killed.”

Narcissa frowned. “That’s quite a lot, isn’t it?”

Draco sighed. “It was an extraordinarily confusing conversation to remain impassive. We only just managed to keep him from finding out Harry and Hermione are also magical.”

She licked her lips and shook her head. “Thank you for letting me know.” She sighed and smiled at Neville. “Neville, dear, how long are we keeping you today? I understand you and Hermione are doing a bit of a switcheroo here.”

Neville nodded. “I’ll go back in a little bit.” He summoned his Gryffindor courage with a deep breath. “I was wondering, Narcissa, could I take a few cuttings from the garden here? I’ve been coveting the Fronding Ivy and Moondew, and I see how healthy yours are. It’s really remarkable what you’ve accomplished with less than an acre here.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Neville. And, yes, please take as many cuttings as you like. I assume you know the technique for collecting from the two you’ve requested?”

He nodded and collected the jars from his bag. She kept an eye on what he was doing, but he was perfect, cutting in just the right place on the ivy, and gently rolling apart the bulbs of the Moondew before replanting the ones he was not taking.

Narcissa smiled widely before saying her goodbyes. “It was really lovely to meet you, Neville. I hope to see you for more visits soon.” She kissed him on the cheek and disappeared around the side of the house.

Draco had been staying off to the side as Neville worked to prepare the cuttings to put into his bag. He approached, pulling Neville into his side, apparently not minding that Neville was now a bit grubby from the soil. “That went pretty well, I think. What do you think, love?”

Neville looked up from the small gardening bench and smiled. “Yes, I think so.” They kissed sweetly. “I do think it’s for me to go, though. Hermione was hoping to take you back to that music shop to get you the music SHE likes. Apparently she’s going to get some for me, too. But, if I don’t go, she won’t come, and she was quite clear that the shop closes at five on Saturdays. Five! Neville!”

Draco’s eyes crinkled when he laughed. Neville had never noticed that before. He found himself kissing Draco again, harder, twisting his fingers into Draco’s hair, the plants forgotten for a moment.

It was a lovely end to the visit.


	12. Puffapod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a group writing discussion of the soul strings, Neville and Draco make a plan for next weekend. Neville and Hermione have an unsuccessful talk about their feelings. Aberforth dispenses wisdom but he wouldn't like you to know it.

July 27-28, 1998

_D: So, I was hoping we could all talk about the soul strings._

_H: Oh, yay! Yes! What about?”_

_N: Uh, okay. Why now?_

_H: It’ll definitely be good to get on the same page, so to speak, about all of the research Draco has been helping me with, and get your thoughts on whether it makes any sense, Neville._

_D: Not just that. I want to talk about what happens after we all sever. I want to talk about how we do the re-twining._

Neville absolutely did not want to have to think about the aftermath yet. Everything about the soul strings was so far above his comprehension, it gave him a bit of a headache to think about it.

_N: As I’ve done no research, you’ll have to explain what that means again._

_H: It’s what happens after your soul string is severed. It essentially grows together with another string-end. Although the original connection has unique properties, the retwined connection also has different properties._

_D: Yes, and not only that, but in some ways, the retwined connections are stronger than the original connection. I’ve been cross-referencing a few things from here in the Black Library, but it’s difficult to get through some of the translations only using translation charms. Anyway, it seems like we may be able to twine together several strings._

_H: Oh my god! Really!?_

_N: Yes, Hermione already told us we could do that? Sorry if I sound petulant, but your patronus said you’d found something huge, Draco._

_D: When I say we may be able to twine together several strings, I mean we may be able to twine together three strings._

_N: what_

_D: Yes. So, you could be bonded to me and Hermione. And, it seems there are several different types of configurations, depending on how we retwine and how the severing happened._

_N: what?!_

_H: Oh, yes! I found something…_

Neville needed a break. He stood and paced for a few minutes, then went to the window. Anything to let his mind calm down. What the fuck? 

The sun had just fallen behind the mountains, erasing the day with shades of pink and orange that reminded him of tropical flowers. Maybe he should try building a hothouse for his next gardening project. McGonagall would probably appreciate having access to fresh hibiscus.

Under his gardening plans and watching the sunset, the sense of panic continued rising in him. Fuck. All three of them? Together forever? He was just getting used to the idea of the three of them at all. Was it all going to have to be decided now?!

He fished a three-quarters full canteen from under his bed and took a few deep swallows, coughing slightly as the firewhiskey burned down his throat. He glanced at the shared journal. The rest of the page had been filled and now Hermione’s softly looping script bloomed onto the top of the facing page. All three of them? Making themselves into soulmates again together?

Fuck. That was certainly a lot. Neville took another three swallows before sitting down at the desk again.

_H: Oh, yes! I found something in the Hogwarts library about the uses of soul bond potential. It was in the History of the Founders section, which makes me think this is how the founders created the original Room. Don’t you think?_

_D: The founders were soul bonded? As in, original bond bonded?_

_H: I think they might have been! And, afterward, Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw “kept a bond to the end of their days”! It must be a soul bond retwining the three of them! It’s honestly surprising that it’s those three, but I guess it’s not so crazy in a way, right? Because of us?_

_D: Because Slytherin is me, Gryffindor is Neville, and Ravenclaw is closer to you than either of us is? And, you’re the woman, and Ravenclaw was the woman? I’m not sure the metaphor travels quite that well, love…_

_H: Neville? Are you still there?_

_D: He’d have said something if he needed to stop, wouldn’t he?_

_H: I think so? Maybe he just went to the loo? Anyway, there’s nothing in this history book about what they did to retwine three together, so I’ll have to look harder._

_D: Do you think Pince would let you into the Restricted Section? Is there still a Restricted Section?_

_H: Of course there’s still a Restricted Section! And, I think if I ask extremely nicely, she might let me research there._

_D: You don’t have her wrapped around your little finger yet? She never plays favourites for her kindred spirit in the Golden Trio? Maybe she’s concerned if she shows you any favoritism, you’ll take her job. She was Slytherin, you know._

_N: I’m back, sorry, yeah, loo. Pince was Slytherin?_

_D: According to Severus, at least. He told me once when he was trying to cheer me up after I got a concussion from Quidditch practice._

_N: Prof Snape tried to cheer you up?_

Neville was having a hard time understanding what was happening and took another pull from the canteen to gird his nerves.

_D: Yes, well, he was my godfather. We were, not close exactly, but yes, he was pleasant to me. Maybe “cheer me up” is a strong way of putting it. He was humoring me with my repetitive and idiotic questions, is probably closer to the truth._

_N: I cannot imagine it._

_H: I can. It’s incredibly weird._

_D: Back to the strings, though- It does seem like we can be together, all three of us, once we’re ready. Everything I’ve seen, including Herr Helles’s book, looks like it will take a bit of time to actually do the retwining, so we don’t have to decide any configurations now._

_H: It’s great news, Draco. Thank you for telling us!_

_N: It’s a lot to take in. I’m not sure what to think._

_H: I… Sure. That’s fair._

_D: Like I said, we have plenty of time to consider everything, even after severing, if that’s what we have to do, like we think. We don’t have to rush into anything._

_N: Okay. I need to stop now. This is a lot to take in._

_H: Okay. Can I come over to sleep?_

_N: Sure, yeah._

_D: Have fun, my loves!_

_N: Goodnight, Draco. I love you._

_H: I love you, too, Draco. Sleep well. Take your potion!_

_D: Only because you said so, Hermione. Good night._

Neville closed the journal and took another few swallows from the canteen before hiding it under the bed again and performing a breath-freshening charm to cover the smell of the firewhiskey. He must have done it wrong because he vaguely tasted metal.

Hermione appeared in her sleep shorts and camisole a moment later. “I’m really tired, but I didn’t want to sleep alone.”

Neville nodded, already pulling his curtains closed for their privacy. “Sure. I’m tired, too. Can’t talk about it anymore now.”

Hermione smiled and held up a vial of Dreamless Sleep. “I even came prepared tonight. No scaring Dean and Seamus with the girl screams tonight.”

He shrugged. He was really feeling the effects of the firewhiskey, sitting unsteadily on the bed. “Sure.”

She frowned, but climbed into bed beside him and they curled together, Neville holding Hermione to his chest after she took her potion.

As sleep pulled Hermione into its clutches, Neville could have sworn she sniffed vaguely over her shoulder at him.

Neville re-read the whole exchange while he nursed a hangover the next morning. Hermione had gone before he woke in the morning, although he could still feel her warmth in the bed, so it must have been in the actual morning this time.

Draco had also written to him in their DN journal that night. It was just a short message saying Draco loved him and missed him and thought of Neville’s visit constantly and wanted to be twined with him. Neville was definitely still feeling a bit of a high from his overnight three days before. He could not stop thinking of how intense and intimate it had been to make love like that in the middle of the night.

And, now, Draco wanted to be his soulmate? His heart felt full to bursting.

But, did Hermione want that? He had never gotten the impression Hermione cared one way or another about her soul string. It had brought her to Draco and that seemed to be going well, but did she actually want to twine again? She was the one who wanted to get rid of the bond most intensely of the six of them. But, she was often oddly intense about a lot of things for reasons Neville could not understand.

He resolved to ask her about it the next time they were alone.

As Neville took the day off from construction, he spent the afternoon leaning against his favorite tree overlooking the lake and writing with Draco. 

It was simply a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

_D: Wait, so you don’t actually know what it’s caught on? It’s just all over the seventh floor, and everywhere but the seventh floor, it goes off to the south or west? Is it in Wales?_

_N: ha? No, it still goes sort of south from Gran’s house near Bath._

_D: I am so curious what your string is tangled on, beautiful boy._

_N: You want to visit Cornwall that badly? Or Bournemouth? Weymouth?_

_D: I mean, I’d go anywhere with you, Neville._

_N: I bet you tell that to all the boys._

_D: No, just you, love._

_N: That… makes me feel lovely, Draco. Thank you. *heart*_

_D: I’m glad. I do think we should find what it’s caught on, though. Your string, I mean._

_N: I guess I should find out before I can’t follow it anymore. I mean, I always thought it was just caught on something about my soulmate, but now I have no idea because she’s clearly not hung up on anything._

_D: Yeah. Uh, what if we go at the weekend?_

_N: Like, after Harry’s big party but before you come back to the castle?_

_D: Yes. We’ll go as far south and west as we can through normal means, and hopefully I’ll be cleared to apparate by then._

_N: I think it sounds fine? But, I haven’t remembered to ask this week, how have your sessions been going with Healer Simons?_

_D: Well, did I remember to tell you she was Slytherin?_

_N: Maybe? I don’t see it in your letters here, anyway. It doesn’t sound surprising, at least?_

_D: She somehow got my probation cut down to four days a week until the school year starts. Because, apparently if I’m not allowed at least three free days a week, it’s considered prison according to the International Magical Law Association._

_N: That’s great!_

_D: I know! I’m really chuffed about the whole thing._

_N: But, does she think you’ll be alright to come back to the castle to do the rest of the summer?_

_D: Oh, I think she does. I have this weird feeling she’s only holding off on approving me to apparate and do more magic so she can justify keeping me on medical leave as long as the DMLE will let her. I think she’s seen how beneficial this break has been for me. Funny how when Healers do their jobs well, we get better like they swear we will._

_N: True, I just hope that’s why she’s holding off._

_D: What do you mean?_

_N: Just that I don’t want you to overtax yourself again because you did too much too soon._

Neville thought of finding Draco trying to scratch his chest open after his wall disappeared and the entire Xenophilius Lovegood debacle.

_D: Oh, it seemed like you were suggesting she has an ulterior motive._

_N: No, just worried about my boyfriend!_

_D: *smile* That’s very sweet, love._

_N: So, about following my string? Should we go after the party on Saturday, then?_

_D: Yes! I hate to ask, because of the last time I had anything to do with you and flying, but how is your flying now?_

_N: Oh, I haven’t really tried to fly in a couple of years, but the last time was fine, I guess. Maybe I’ll ask Ginny to give me some pointers this week. Flying would probably be the easiest way to follow the string once we get out into the country, I guess._

_D: That was my thought, if you’re up to it._

_N: We can give it a go. If someone can keep from harassing me about being a forgetful dumbarse, it’ll really take this time?_

_D: Morgana’s tits, I was a slimy git. I’m so sorry, Neville._

_N: It’s not very okay, but thank you for feeling bad about it now._

_D: Yeah._

_N: You’re not going to beat yourself up about it too badly, are you?_

_D: Hard to say what my mind will do about it later, but it’s no worse than anything else I’m living with right now._

_N: Fuck, how is this ever going to work, Draco? With our history?_

_D: I don’t know. I’m trying to be different, and that’s all I really have on any front right now._

_N: I get that. I’m trying to be different, too?_

_D: Why? You’ve been good the whole time!_

_N: Being “good” doesn’t keep me from being sad. Everything this summer feels like I’m scrambling to find something with meaning. Like, I can’t get enough of anything._

_D: You’re not suited to a solitary existence._

_N: Yeah, and everyone is so solitary this summer, even here at the castle. It feels like the castle is really empty even more, now that we’re getting to the end of rebuilding. Like, there’s no life here yet._

_D: I’m sorry. I’ll be back at the beginning of next week, and hopefully I can make it a little less lonely?_

_N: I hope so._

_D: As promised, I’ve got to go now. Andromeda is staring down at me with a blond baby held out. I love you!_

_N: I love you, Draco._

That night, Hermione cornered Neville with an inscrutable look on her face. “Can we talk?”

This was it. She was breaking up with him. She only wanted to retwine with Draco. She only wanted Draco. Fuck! He felt sick.

He swallowed, the feeling of cotton overwhelming his mouth. “Yeah, lead the way?”

She smiled. “Greenhouse two?” She waggled a brow.

He nodded and gestured.

When she had closed and warded the door, she pulled him into a searing kiss. When she broke away for breath, she saw the frown still on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Neville sighed, unhappy she was making him start it. “I know I’m not who you really want. It’s okay. We can just go back to being friends.”

She stepped back. “What? Why would you say that?”

He frowned. “Why would you say ‘Can we talk?’”

She clenched her jaw slightly and rolled her eyes. “Because I wanted to TALK! Did you think I was trying to break it off with you?!”

Neville had no idea what he thought now, but he was not about to tell her that. He crossed his arms. “Yes?”

She fumed, breathing heavily through her nose. “You think I don’t want to be with you? You think I only want to be with Draco?”

He nodded. “Yes, yeah, I guess I have been thinking that.”

She threw up her hands and began pacing the packed dirt. “So, all the times I’ve gone out of my way to spend time with you, all the times I’ve come to sleep with you, all the sex we’ve had, is that nothing?”

Neville took a hitching breath in. He had clearly been wrong, and he had not the slightest idea how he had misread her so badly, but he also knew in his gut he was not wrong. “It’s not nothing. I just know that if Draco was here, you would be with him. You’re clearly mad for him in a way you’ve never been for me.”

She let out a groan of frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Neville! I literally cannot be mad for anyone like I’m mad for him since he’s my fucking soulmate! But, I am building something with you I don’t have with him--”

“Yes, a friendship where you fuck me when he’s not around and don’t write to me when you’re gone.” Neville had maybe never interrupted Hermione before, nor been so snide, and his stomach was churning at both. He was apparently itching to have this fight, though, because he would not back down despite his distaste at what was coming out of him.

Hermione was shocked into momentary silence. As she spoke again, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “No, a relationship where we can be, be ourselves, without, without pretension.” She looked away for a long moment. “How long have I been hurting you like this?” She looked up at him.

Neville looked away now, breathing heavily. “I don’t know.” It was true. He did not really remember when he started feeling like he could never be anything really significant to her -- when he started feeling like he just happened to be in the right place at the right time and so was with her by default. “Since that first night, I always feel like our time is stolen from someone else. First, it was from Luna or Ron, and now it’s from Draco. You didn’t exactly come back from the Burrow for me, Hermione. And, you didn’t seem to think of me while you were gone, despite writing to nearly everyone else in the castle. What am I supposed to think?”

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t know, Neville. I don’t know what you should think. I just know that I love you, and I want to be with you. I have nothing more than that. I’m sorry if that’s not enough.”

“But, when you say you love me, which love is that? We’ve been friends for so long, is it like how you love Harry or Ron? Or is it like how you love Draco?”

“Why the fuck does it have to be like anyone else?!”

“Because I’ve never been special to you, Hermione!”

Off in the corner, a pile of pots shattered with a small pop, becoming a pile of shards with Neville’s burst of accidental magic.

Hermione turned fully away. When she finally spoke, there were tears in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Neville. I wish I knew how to make you feel that you ARE special to me.”

Neville huffed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hermione. I think I make you feel normal, but I’ve been boring and normal, and it’s not who I want to be to someone who loves me.”

She turned to him again, eyes red and tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry! What can I do to fix this?” She held her arms tightly folded around her middle. “I don’t know what to do for this!”

He sighed. “I can’t tell you what will make me feel the way I need to feel, Hermione. I just know that suddenly having us just be in the middle of a relationship like this, it’s making me feel bad.”

She nodded. “Okay. Is it that we jumped into everything too fast after last weekend?”

He pursed his lips. “No, we’re not playing twenty questions so you can figure out exactly when and how you hurt me. You can figure that out without my help.” 

And, then, Neville Longbottom did something he never expected that he _could_ do, let alone _would_ do. He turned around and started to open the greenhouse door to walk out of a fight with Hermione Granger.

“Are you going to drink?!” Her voice rang out in the empty half-cylinder of the greenhouse.

He did not turn back, and the question gave him pause for only a second. He walked away in the near-darkness and found, actually, yes, he did want a fucking drink. Because, why would he not want a drink? He needed to sleep, and he needed to stop thinking about Hermione Motherfucking Granger. Drinking was excellent for both of those things.

And, he pondered as he exited the castle gates, why was it any of Hermione’s business if he needed to drink? He was allowed to cope however he wanted! She was coping in her way, and he was coping in his way!

The Hog’s Head was obviously not busy on this Tuesday night. Aberforth would once again sell no bottles, restricting Neville to what he could drink inside the pub.

“But, why, Abe? You’ve been selling me bottles all summer.” Neville had wasted no time, and was two generous pours into his firewhiskey.

Aberforth frowned and looked at Neville from the corner of his eye. “I’ve stopped selling bottles to everyone this summer. You can drink here, or you can buy from someone else, but I’m not yer all damned support system.”

Neville scrunched his eyes up, missing something. “It’s not just me?” He finished his third generous pour.

The old man rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course it’s not just you, Longbottom. You’re not even the first one I’ve cut off. Sorry if you thought you were special.”

Neville’s stomach threatened to rebel. “Oh, I know I’m not special, Abe. I know that very well.”

Aberforth poured a less generous amount into Neville’s glass now, but poured the same amount for himself. “Now, Longbottom, you know I don’t mean nothing by it. You’re just in the same boat as lots from all over. Just trying to find yer way in this new time. Was like this after both the last ones.”

Neville sighed, finding himself in a full pout. “No, I mean, Hermione can’t think of me as special. Draco did it fine. Just told me exactly how much he liked me and how long and why.” He swallowed half the dram. “But, she just needs to know exactly how she hurt me and why and when it started, and it’s pointless, because she’ll think that just by getting to the bottom of it, she’ll have solved the problem. But, she won’t!”

Aberforth knocked their glasses together. “War shite I can’t tell you about, but I’ve been hearing about love problems for the past fifty years.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “You’re with the both of them, then?”

Neville nodded.

“And, he makes you feel all gooey, like the inside of a fancy chocolate?”

Neville nodded.

“But, she makes you feel like corned beef and cabbage?”

Neville’s eyes went wide. “Yes! That’s it!”

Aberforth nodded sagely. “And, she seems to love corned beef and cabbage?”

Neville nodded again. “But, I don’t want to be corned beef and cabbage.” He had an excellent idea! He should tell her he did not want to be corned beef and cabbage!

He summoned his clearest memory of Hermione stuttering his name as his fingers plunged into her and cast his Patronus. “Tell her I don’t want corned beef and cabbage, I want to be beef wellington or something! And, I AM drinking! Too bad!”

Aberforth frowned. “Why ever did you do that, lad?”

Neville shrugged, slumping over slightly. “I didn’t want to forget. I’m really forget-y.”

The old man sighed. “I’ve seen you with a little book and a pencil. Would that not do?”

Neville remembered that he did have his little notebook! But, he had already said that corned beef thing, so he really did not need to write that one down.

An effervescent otter burst through the door as Neville considered what was good to write in his notepad. The otter called out with Hermione’s voice. “I like beef wellington. I’m guessing you went out. You can send another message if you’d like me to come side-along apparate you home when you’re done? I’m sorry for everything.”

Neville was embarrassed that Aberforth had seen and heard everything. He finished his current pour and pushed it back toward the old man with one finger, the gesture a bit of a question. Aberforth poured one finger into the glass and pushed it back.

“Better make that one last, lad.”

Neville frowned. “Fine.”

“So, she likes wellington, then. Seems a mite of good news. Now, the question is, have you told her all of this?”

He sighed and swirled the whiskey in his glass. “I tried.” He tried to sip, but ended up downing half of it. “How can anyone drink this slowly?”

Aberforth scowled. “Do you even LIKE whiskey, lad?”

Neville frowned. He liked how it made him feel, but it was not exactly something he enjoyed the taste of. “Yes?”

Aberforth chuckled. “No, you don’t. If you liked the taste, you’d want to savor it.”

The younger man felt there was something he was missing. Was Abe saying something about his relationship? His eyes narrowed in concentration.

“It’s not meant to be some deep shite about you, boy. Unless you want it to be.” Aberforth rolled his eyes again.

The glass was empty now. When had that happened? The old man took Neville’s glass. The ever-present figure at the end of the bar cackled suddenly, startling and vaguely frightening Neville.

“Shall I call your lady, then?”

Neville frowned again. Walking back up to the castle would probably go badly if he was alone, but he definitely did not want to see Hermione, _BUT_ , she had not seemed angry still in her patronus. “I guess so.”

Aberforth sent off his spectral goat. Five minutes later, a loud crack sounded outside and Hermione pushed open the heavy door. Neville felt incredibly drunk now that he could see how incredibly sober Hermione was.

She gave him a small smile. “Hi, Neville.”

Neville slid off the stool and stumbled slightly before catching his balance again. “Hi.” He felt fully pathetic now.

She held out her hand and led him out the door with a wave to Aberforth. Neville gave a half-salute that was met by a nod from the old man.

In the darkness, Neville felt a bit better. Hermione’s hand solidly held his. He found he was not as drunk as he wanted to be, though. Damn the old man’s new policies.

As they reached the end of the little town, Hermione stopped. “Ready? Put your arm around my shoulders.”

Neville felt that pull behind his navel and they landed just outside the castle gates. He felt a wave of nausea and doubled over, but it passed quickly without making him actually lose his dinner.

Hermione kept her hand on his back, running it in gentle, firm circles. When he stood up straight again, she took his arm and led him up to the castle. It felt so strange coming into the castle so devoid of life.

The light in the entry hall was overwhelming after the darkness outside. Neville felt more drunk again. He hoped they would not have to talk about this any more. He was in no state.

In the tower, Hermione helped him up the stairs and got him into bed. Ron had apparently moved back into the room with Luna finally gone. He gave them a bleary-eyed glare and drew his curtains.

Hermione also drew the curtains on Neville’s bed and cast Indumentissa to get his jeans and shoes off. When she had gotten him a glass of water, she sat on the side of the bed facing him. 

Neville found he still really wanted her, still loved her, but now the floodgates had opened with their fight, he could not ignore the other ways she made him feel. She took his hand again, holding it gently in her lap after casting muffliato.

“Neville, what’s your favorite food?” She looked almost nervous from what he could see in the darkness.

Neville was taken aback. “Bangers and mash. Colcannon is best.”

She smiled. “But, do you use kale or cabbage?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Cabbage, of course! What kind of house did you grow up in, Hermione?”

She smiled and gave the tiniest, cutest chuckle he had ever seen. “I don’t know. One with dentists, I guess?”

She was rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb and it felt heavenly with the slight tingling of his drunkenness. He found his eyelids becoming very heavy. “Don’t go, Hermione. I promise I’ll be nice to you. I love you.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She bit her lip. “Can I just say one thing before you make up your mind about whether you really want that tonight?”

Neville’s face screwed up in a squinty mess, trying to tell what she meant, and to see her face in the darkness. “Yeah?”

She sighed. “I don’t know how to give you what you need from me, but I want to try. Will you let me keep trying, now I know?”

He sighed. “Yeah, now come over here so I can fall asleep.”

She nodded and kicked her shoes and jeans off before pulling the curtains fully closed and snuggling up against his chest. This did feel right, Neville holding her, their bodies fitting together as she threw a leg over his and he twined their legs together.

This felt like the place he belonged. So, why had it been such a big bad problem earlier?


	13. Bishop's Weed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hermione receives a letter from abroad, she and Neville spend the day researching the string project.

July 29, 1998

In the morning, Hermione was still in Neville’s bed, snoring very gently against his neck as she clutched him around the stomach as the big spoon. He moved his head slightly to stop the neck breathing, but savored the feeling of her against him.

The part of him that liked to say things had a few new things to say this morning. Why had he gotten into such a stupid tiff with Hermione if he was going to invite her to stay at the end of the night? And, why had he gone to drink about it, too? Merlin’s saggy pants, nothing had really been solved by the drinking! And, was he just going to keep letting her shape the relationship? He was never going to feel like he wanted to feel with her that way!

Then, Hermione stretched and gave a little wake-up moan against him, straightening and tensing, pushing her breasts against his back. “Mm, morning…” It was nearly a purr.

Fuck! This was no way to stay angry at your girlfriend!

The greater part of Neville disagreed with the premise presented by the smaller part. Now Hermione knew how he felt, she would do something differently. He could only give her a chance if he stayed and let her use that chance. And, if he was going to give her the chance, he could not stay angry as she tried.

He rolled over and she molded to him. “Morning, yourself…”

Her eyes were barely open, but she smiled and looked at him. “You’re so cute in the morning. I’ve been missing out.” Her eyes drifted closed again and she snuggled against his chest.

Her statement felt like a kind of hope in his chest. He held her, running his fingers up and down her back, just enjoying the feel of her against him this way.

With the morning post, Hermione received an international owl and rushed over to Neville when she had finished reading it.

“Rodolph Helles wrote back to me!” She had a slightly crazed look in her eyes.

Neville went out to the new verandah off the Great Hall with her. “What did he say? Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, actually, he’s confirmed a lot of things I was already thinking and that Draco’s found in his research.”

She tried to hand him the letter, but Neville shook his head. “I can’t read it with you staring at me. Just tell me the short version and I’ll read it later?”

She nodded and unfolded the parchment, scanning it. “Well, first, I think he thinks I’m in a triad with Harry and Ron since I forgot to specify? But, he said that the bond potential can be harnessed for exactly what we want to do. And, like Draco found, retwining can be done with multiple people, if everyone has a string end and wants to do it. He gave me several more people to write to, and a few more books to find.” She smiled and looked up at Neville. “He seems confident that this can work for all six of us?”

Neville smiled. She was so excited, she was practically vibrating. “What can I do?” She got a look of confusion. “To help? I’m obviously not as good at research as you, but I’d like to do something if you need?”

She launched herself into his arms, kissing him hard. She was so full of energy, it was overwhelming, but Neville met her as much as he had. Their lips parted and tongues met with a fervor he had not felt from her since their original secret trysts.

He pulled back before anything could progress, as they suddenly had an audience. Professor McGonagall had given a soft ahem. “The morning work is about to begin.”

Hermione straightened her shirt and blushed. “I’ve gotten a letter from the expert I contacted, so I’d like to do some research today, if that’s alright, Professor?”

An arched eyebrow and a wry smile accompanied the reply. “Of course, Miss Granger. I assume this is for your Room of Requirement project?”

Hermione nodded. “I have a few more people to write to, and some books to order.”

McGonagall nodded back. “I’ll let Irma know you may have access to the Restricted Section if you require anything there. I suppose Mr Longbottom, you’ll also be skiving off your castle work for the day.”

Neville gave Hermione a glance and she nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I want to help Hermione however I can.” He smiled as he gazed down at her, so full of excitement.

The Headmistress gave something close to a smile with her nod of acknowledgment. “Please inform me at once if you require anything, and please update me about your plans by the end of the week, Miss Granger. I must give the DMLE an update about Mr Malfoy’s work assignment at the beginning of next week.” Her eyebrow arched and she gave them a knowing look.

Hermione snorted a laugh and struggled to recompose herself. “Yes, ma’am.”

McGonagall swept back into the castle and Hermione broke into mad peals of laughter. “How on Earth is she going to explain any of this to Draco’s probation officer?!”

Neville smiled and shook his head. “The same way she threatened his life?”

Hermione doubled over with her cackling.

They spent the morning in the mostly-rebuilt and reorganised library. A Ravenclaw boy was helping Madam Pince with some preservation charms at the far end. Hermione began by transcribing Rodolph Helles’s letter into the triad journal. Neville read the letter as she wrote it out.

> _Dear Miss Granger,  
>  I am most invigorated to help your Golden Trio with such a great mystery! I am honored you have read my work, and am at your service.  
>  What you say is true, so far as I have found in my sociomagical research. I have found originating string mates who have used the magical potential to enchant many types of magical items. I am not familiar with anyone who has used their bond to enchant architecture in the way you describe, but I am far from an expert on the many uses of a severed soul bond. I would recommend that you contact Sarah Moulin at the Université du Magique à Montréal to learn how to safely and effectively sever the bond, if you do choose to sever for this Hogwarts room. My understanding is that there are as many ways to use the bond potential as there are bonds, but if anyone can affirm this with full confidence, it will be Mme Moulin. I recommend her book Les Belles Chaînes de Potentiel Entre Nous, unfortunately untranslated at the moment.  
>  You have also asked about retwining after a severed bond, which I can safely answer with full confidence, as this has been my own area of study for longer than I would have thought possible. I have interviewed many hundreds of people who have retwined with their original bond mate after a severing or fraying event. Of the thousand or so retwined relationships I have surveyed, I have met several dozen who have twined with more than one other person. I have seen mostly triads, but there are at least two quartets, and I have reason to believe that if the bonding is done correctly, there could be many more than that. It would take an extraordinary group for that to occur, though, and I am not suggesting you should undertake such an extraordinary retwining for your own relationships.  
>  For further reading and research on the methods of retwining after a purposeful severing event, these are the books I believe will help you most, beyond what you can find in the bibliography of my book. Fakahaha Ano/Together Again by the Maori witch Haeata Ngata is best read in Maori, but has been translated into English. You should also read The Severed Bond Restored by Jun Ji-young which addresses the specifics of retwining with an original bond mate. And, finally, I think that if you are looking for resources to understand the impact of a multilateral relationship, including the way to twine all members into one bond, you would do well with The Shared Heart by Esther Fink. I can also recommend writing to her. She is a dear personal friend and would be pleased to help in any way she is able.  
>  Finally, please allow me to assist in any further way you require, Miss Granger. You have done a great service to the world, and there are many who would like to help you accomplish any goals you will have in this life.  
>  Your humble servant,  
>  Rodolph Helles_

Neville was struck by the thought that Herr Helles was a bit in love with Hermione. She swatted his arm when he suggested it, though. Neville was curious about whether Draco agreed, so he wrote to Draco in their DN journal.

> _What do you think Rodolph Helles’s intentions are toward Hermione? She doesn’t seem to think he’s in love with her, but I can’t seem to shake this feeling._

Draco wrote back later.

> _Oh, he’s absolutely twigs over handle for her, no doubt. But, can you blame him? He’s an old man having his expertise drawn upon by the most famous woman in the magical world, months after she helped save a country from a mad pensioner lich._
> 
> _She did neglect to mention that the triad is not with Harry and Ron, though, didn’t she? Wait, I’ll just ask that in the group journal instead._

Hermione had three piles of books she was working through. As she made her way through the largest pile, she discarded the books to a second pile for no further follow-up, or a short pile she was lacing with bookmarks for Neville to read more closely. Hermione would go back to re-read Neville’s notes and take her own notes, if it actually fit into her plans.

Neville was amazed that Hermione had actually found him something to do that would be genuinely useful to her. He had always had trouble knowing where to start with researching for school essays, and usually just used the first thing he found on the subject. The fact that Hermione had a system where she could tell if a book was going to be useful just by skimming the beginnings of chapters was simply astounding.

For her part, she did not think this was anything special. “With non-fiction, you can tell what a chapter is going to be about by reading the first paragraph. It’s the same as how you start an essay with a paragraph summarizing the topic.”

Neville had never thought of writing in those terms before. “Is that how it always is?” He looked down at the book on magical architecture he was currently reading. “How have I never noticed that before?”

She frowned. “Well, did your gran ever teach you about formal writing styles?”

Neville thought of the many times Gran became annoyed at him when reading the essays she had assigned him. He guessed they had not really had any structure. Obviously, writing had paragraphs, but where did you put the start of a new paragraph? Just wherever seemed right.

“I don’t think she did. She never knew how to explain what was wrong with what she’d assigned me. She just said it was wrong.” He frowned again. “Is this something all muggles know?”

She sighed a little and looked away. “I’m not sure. I learned it in primary school, but wizards don’t have primary school and I’ve never understood why.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s just always been taught at home until our Hogwarts letter. It’s normal for us.”

She huffed. “There should be some sort of educational system before Hogwarts! Why does formal education for magical children only start when muggle children are entering Year Seven?”

Neville just shrugged again. He had no idea why magical education was the way it was. He had no answers, especially if she continued and became more fired-up.

As the morning passed, Neville began to add to the rejected pile and made a pile of his own, marking books with slips of parchment that gave small summaries of what each one was about, and a couple of slips with specific passages noted. Hermione had begun sliding her bare foot up and down his leg as she flipped through books in her initial pile. It was a sweet sort of touch that made Neville feel softer somehow.

Just before they left for lunch, Hermione gasped and laughed aloud as she read Draco’s response in the group journal.

> _Darling, why ever does Rodolph Helles think you are in a triad with Harry and Ron? As if they could even remotely approach the raw sexuality and charisma Neville and I exude…  
>  I’m off to find those books this morning. I’ll bring them to the castle this afternoon, any I can find from Flourish & Blotts or Bits Booksellers. Can you tell Professor McGonagall I’ll floo in around two o’clock? I’m afraid an owl won’t arrive before then. I assume you’ve both set up in the library for the day, so I’ll come find you there.  
>  Love you both, and see you soon!_

Neville smiled. He thought it would be nice to see Draco and he said the same to Hermione.

She smiled rather sheepishly. “Is it wrong that I’m as excited to see him as I am to get my hands on those books?”

Neville rolled his eyes. “I think he’d understand, but I wouldn’t bloody say that to him, love.”

She shook her head emphatically. “I would never!”

She let Madam Pince know that they would be back to continue after lunch, and started off toward the Great Hall.

Hermione’s hand found Neville’s as they walked down the hall and she smiled up at him. “Your hair got a little lighter this summer, didn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been out in the sun quite a bit, I think. Nothing dramatic. I did have rather blond hair when we started here. I think it just bleaches out in the sun rather easily.”

“Speaking of when we started, what ever happened to Trevor?”

Neville chuckled. “He escaped on the first day of Seventh Year, as soon as we got off the train. I think he’d been lusting after the Giant Squid for a few years and finally tried to make a go of it.”

She laughed.

He smiled again. “I hope he’s happy. He was always trying to escape, and I’m rather glad he finally managed it before anything bad could happen to him because of what was happening to me.” He had barely thought of Trevor in months, but he found he really was quite relieved about Trevor’s fortuitously timed disappearance.

“I’m sure he’s living it up with his girlfriend in the lake.” She bumped his arm as they squeezed through the single open door of the Great Hall. “I’m glad everyone’s just been quiet to us about all of this. Draco’s letter to Ginny really worked.”

Neville nodded. “She’s a bit scary.”

The ginger girl in question waved them over and Hermione and Neville seated themselves across from Ginny and Ron. “So, what were you two doing this morning?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows. “Something fun or just edifying?”

If there was an entendre, Neville was not following it. “Researching the strings and magical enchantments, mostly, Gin.”

Ron swallowed. “What is with this string stuff? I went up to the seventh floor and I didn’t see anything when I did that charm. So, it’s not everyone?”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s also not Dean and Seamus. It’s just six of us, that I can tell.”

Ron frowned then. “So, what’s the big deal with it?”

Ginny huffed. “We’re restoring the Room of Requirement by severing our soul strings. That’s the big deal, Ron.”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he went pale. His voice was a whisper as he stared at his sister. “What? Why? Why not just be happy with your soulmates?”

Neville thought of Draco and Hermione. They seemed like they would always struggle with their connection. He thought of himself and Luna, with Luna’s glimpses of the future that would make them miserable. His voice came out more evenly than he expected. “Soulmates don’t necessarily get to be happy together.”

Ron seemed startled at Neville’s words, which struck Neville as odd since Ron was in a relationship with Neville’s soulmate. “Of course, but you’ve got to try! You’ve got to try to have a good relationship! Mum and Dad fought, but they always made up!”

Ginny looked miserable. “Harry and I are going to stay together after. I read that book Hermione brought back from Draco’s, and people are just as happy after, if they stay together, Ron.”

Her brother’s scowl could have cleaned a cauldron. “You and Harry are doing it? Are you mental?! Have you all gone completely off the deep end?! It’s so wrong!”

Hermione looked like she was about to cry. “No, Ronald, we have a chance to do something spectacular, and some of us have a chance to make a choice about the fate of the rest of our lives in the process, and some of us are taking that chance because the choices we HAVEN’T had our whole lives made us into people we have to rebuild now. Some of us want something that only severing can give us, not just the Room, but the shape of relationships that we need. Ronald, I am done explaining to you that we don’t all have the black and white view of the war that you have, and I am done explaining that the world you thought you grew up in was not as good for the rest of us as it was for you.” Tears were now escaping from her eyes and rolling gently down her cheeks. “It’s not wrong for us…”

She crawled off the bench and walked away. Neville followed her, pulling her into a hug almost as soon as they escaped the Great Hall. She held him, crying silently.

His voice was a whisper into her hair. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. He’s full of his own ideas. I’m so sorry.”

She nodded into him and sniffed slightly, pulling back to look up at him. “I want to be twined with you, Neville. I want to feel the soul bond with you. I want that. I want to be with you always. I’m sorry for being how I’ve been and hurting you in the process. I just need you to know I need you. I do.”

He smiled. “I love you, Hermione. Thank you. I think I want that, too.”

He kissed her gently but firmly, parting her lips to run his tongue against hers, feeling something warm growing in his chest to replace the cold gnawing he had allowed to fester before. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he pulled her softly into his body, enjoying the feeling of the length of her against the length of him.

A gasp from behind him made them part with a wet sound. He adjusted his pants before turning to find Ginny beginning to cackle. “There are SO MANY empty rooms! Why snog like that in the Entrance Hall?!”

Neville rolled his eyes as Hermione reddened. “What do you need, Ginevra?”

“I yelled at Ron and he’s ready to apologise, if you want to hear it.” One eyebrow arched. “Or, I can tell him I couldn’t find you and you’re off shagging, if you’d rather?”

Hermione let out a little cry. “No! What the hell, Ginny?”

They returned to the table, Neville and Hermione holding hands. Ron looked miserable now.

“Ginny said I was out of line. ‘M sorry. Luna says I’m sensitive about the strings because of Lavender. Since it wasn’t totally fulfilled…”

Ginny cringed. “Sure, but, the other thing.”

Ron swallowed. “I’m sorry I said it was wrong, and I’m sorry I have such a hard time seeing things from your perspective. I’ll try harder about it.”

Hermione looked like she was going to cry again and Neville rubbed her back in soft circles. “Thank you, Ronald. I really appreciate it.” She sighed. “I have a question for you, actually.”

Ron looked terrified. “What…”

She nodded. “Are you going to be an adult and stay in the dorm with Draco when he comes back on Monday?”

Ron had a singular quality among their friends of being able to convey eight emotions with one expression. This one contained disdain, confusion, annoyance, fear, sadness, frustration, anger, and acceptance. “Yeah, I reckon I better, since Luna took the tent away until she comes back.”

Hermione frowned. “She’s coming back?”

Ginny nodded. “She said she’d be back on the tenth, when we’ll start needing her.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “She knows when we’ll need her before we’ve even got the planning under way?”

Ginny shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Nev. She said what she said. I’m just your faithful reporter.”

Ron swallowed again. “It’s so cool how she can do that. Bit scary, but cool…” He had a weird smile.

After lunch, Neville spent half an hour flying on Ginny’s broom. It was fine. He could do it longer at the weekend if he spent a little bit of time on it every day.

Draco arrived just when he said he would, appearing in the library at five minutes after two. Neville had the odd impression Draco was glowing slightly with the most open smile Neville had ever seen on his face. He flopped into a chair beside Hermione. “Hello, my loves!”

Hermione kissed his cheek absently. “Hi. Do you think this would translate better as within or through?” She pointed to a spot on the page.

Draco smiled and looked over her shoulder. “I think that in the context, it’s more likely to be through.” He looked up at Neville. “Has she turned you into a full-on swot, too, boyfriend?”

Neville chuckled. “I’m the one looking at two swots discussing the possible translations of a preposition.” He heaved up over the table to kiss Draco solidly before dropping back into his seat.

Draco’s whole face was smiling. “Well, I expect Hermione will give me a similarly lovely peck on the lips when I show her every book on Herr Helles’s list.”

Hermione’s head snapped up. “Oh my god, Draco! All of them?!”

Draco produced a pile from his shoulder bag. “I couldn’t get just one, my love. I thought I was going to be late, as Mr Bits had to portkey to his branch in Toulouse and back for the Maori one. But, he did have everything Flourish and Blotts did not!”

Hermione did indeed launch herself at Draco, crawling into his lap to thoroughly kiss him before Neville spied Madam Pince frowning at them and gave a little cough. Hermione sat in her chair again as Draco looked mildly disappointed.

But, despite Draco’s disappointed look, he reached for one of the books in Neville’s “further research” pile. Neville explained their system as Hermione cross-referenced her translation with a dictionary. “...Of course, she has to do the beginning to end on anything in another language. I’m rubbish at anything but English.”

Draco shrugged. “What shall I do, then?”

Neville bit his lip. Hermione had come up with the system, and he was unsure how Draco could fit into it. Draco had already gotten them more books, so that was already a help. “Uh, maybe you could read through what I’ve marked? See if anything works with what you’ve already found?”

His boyfriend smiled again. Or, was it just a different tone to his already-permanent smile? “I can do that!”

Hermione came to the end of a paragraph on her translation. “I don’t think this is going to be useful at all. I think they’re talking about a magical loom for enchanting things, not anything about soul strings.” She leaned against Draco. “That was fucking frustrating…”

He nodded and kissed her hair. “I know, love. You could read one of the ones I bought? You know, since they were recommended by your third boyfriend… or is it your fifth?”

Hermione swatted him in the chest as he grinned. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell him who was in my triad! It genuinely didn’t occur to me he’d think it’s Harry and Ron, of all people!”

Draco laughed. “Of course he thought it was Harry and Ron! You’re part of the Golden Trio! Half the magical world already thinks you all shagged like rabbits on the run!”

She huffed. “They do not! Neville, people don’t think that, do they?”

Neville could not keep a straight face. “Err, well, yeah, they do a bit. I didn’t think that, because I know you all, but yeah, I think a lot of people think you three, you know…”

Hermione had turned a sort of blotchy red. “No! Not again! It took so long to get them to stop thinking I was with Harry last time!”

Draco arched an eyebrow. “You know, we could find a way to get out in front of all of this, if you want. We could dispel all the rumours about the Golden Trio’s fuckfest if we went public with who you’re actually involved with.”

Hermione frowned. “I don’t disagree with you, but I’m not ready for that yet.”

It was Neville’s turn to frown. “What if I don’t want to go public? I like having this be just us and our friends knowing about it.”

Draco and Hermione both looked at Neville with varying tones of incredulity. He realised then that they would have to go public somehow since Hermione was Hermione the Golden Girl, Draco was Draco the Acquitted Death Eater, and somehow Neville had become Neville the Hero of Hogwarts. They were never going to be able to be anything to the public but a complicated symbol of the war. They would need to figure out how to deal with that now, while they were still in the bubble of this summer, before the world came crashing back in around them.

Neville sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know that’s not an option. You’re right, Draco. We have to do something. When Hermione is ready, we’ll do something.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I never said we HAD to do something. I said we COULD do something, if Hermione wants. She’s the one who’ll get the worst of it.”

Neville huffed. “I’ll say it, then. We have to do something or this will not go our way. I’ve been reading the Daily Prophet for years and we have to be the ones to tell our story or they’ll just say whatever they want to say when they find out, and we’ll lose our privacy on their terms.”

Hermione nodded. “I have an idea, but I’ll need to run it by Harry.”

Neville and Draco glanced at each other and nodded. “Okay, just let us know, love.” Draco pressed another kiss into her hair. “Whatever you need, we’ll do.”

Neville reached for Hermione’s hand and held it in his. “Yes, whatever you need, we’ll be ready.”

Hermione smiled. “What if we took some of these books outside with a blanket and some lemonade?”

So, the three spent the afternoon of Neville’s last day as a seventeen-year-old basking in the sun, drinking lemonade on a blanket by the lake. Neville felt simply content and slept soundly that night with Hermione curled around him as the big spoon, just how his day had begun.


	14. Allium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a visit from Augusta, Neville spends his birthday in the library with Draco and Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all doing well. Although it's been slow-going, I am still working on the rewrites whenever I have the emotional energy.
> 
> I should have the first chapter of "Please Call Me Narcissa" ready in the next few days. That's been my break whenever "On Beauty" gets too hard to do.

July 30, 1998

The morning of Neville’s eighteenth birthday brought the patter of rain on the window and two bodies sandwiching him in warmth. He snuggled into Draco behind him and pulled Hermione into his chest. He could really get used to this.

“Happy birthday, boyfriend.” Draco’s whisper against his neck gave him a slight shiver.

Hermione stretched slightly against him. “Morning. Is that rain?”

He nodded and buried his head in her neck. She gave a contented sigh that filled his being.

The happy bubble lasted until just after breakfast. As the three left the Great Hall to return to the library, Augusta Longbottom walked into the Entrance Hall.

Neville had been holding Draco’s hand, but froze, dropping the hand he was holding. “Gran! What are you doing here?”

Gran’s face was like stone. “I came to wish you a happy birthday and take you to see your parents. As we’ve done every birthday since you were a year old.” She frowned and her glance twitched to Draco. “This explains a few things.”

Neville also glanced between Draco and Hermione. “What does this explain, exactly, Gran?” He could be stony, too, if that was how she was going to be.

Her eyebrow raised and she grew somehow straighter and taller, like his memories of being in trouble as a child. “Why my grandson, son of two heroes tortured to insanity by that woman, would defend any of that family.”

Hermione had grabbed Neville’s hand and squeezed it quite hard. He drew some strength from the contact. “I defended him because he doesn’t deserve your, your, thinking him evil like her. He’s not the enemy, Gran!”

Her face twisted. “He’s like all of them--”

“No! He’s nothing like them!” Neville’s voice echoed through the space. “He’s different!”

“You do not interrupt me, Neville Francis Longbottom. You do not disrespect our name by associating with Death Eater scum.” Her voice had not raised, but she was clearly furious.

Neville glanced at Draco, whose face had gone pale looking at the floor. He pulled Draco’s hand into his again. “No, Gran. I love Draco and you disrespect me when you say these things about him.” He swallowed and glanced at Hermione, whose face was trained fully on his, eyes shining with determination and love.

“And, I suppose you imagine yourself in a triad with both of them, then?” Gran’s jaw was clenched and she gritted out “triad” as if it were a slur.

Neville’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I don’t just imagine it. That’s what we are. I love them both, and you have no say in this.” She made a disgusted sound. “I know you hate that I didn’t find love with someone YOU find acceptable, but you’ll have to fix your prejudices, because this is the thing that has brought me more happiness than anything else in my entire life. There is no room in my life for your hatred, Gran.”

And, with that, Neville walked past her, down the hall, heart beating faster than he could measure. Behind him, her final words came down in a measured tone, although the words were the dirtiest play of her argument. “You will regret this, my boy.”

Neville shook his head. Hermione clutched his arm and Draco gripped his hand tightly. When they turned the corner to go upstairs, Neville collapsed against the wall. “Fuck.”

It had been the last thing Augusta had said to Frank before Bellatrix happened. Frank had disagreed with her about whether to place the house under Fidelius. He had been adamant that the familial wards were sufficient, but Augusta wanted to protect the family with the Fidelius Charm. That had been the morning of the day his parents were ambushed and captured during a raid on a Death Eater safehouse.

Gran had told him the story of that day so many times, always with the lesson that no one could know when fate would change their life, so always be careful of what you say to those you love.

Reviewing his words in the short fight, Neville decided he had been as careful with his words as he could be, but he would not be bullied into compliance.

Neville’s partners clung to him, holding him, cradling him as his whole body shook under the weight of what had been said, implied, and held out as emotional blackmail. He took deep breaths and found he had no tears for this situation somehow.

After a moment, he pulled away slightly to see Hermione’s tears staining his shirt and the streaks on Draco’s cheeks. “Are you two alright?”

She sniffed and nodded. “Why didn’t you tell us she’s so… I don’t know…”

Neville sighed. “What should I have said? ‘Gran thinks Draco is like his mad aunt and won’t listen to reason.’ I thought she’d calm down if I stayed away. That’s usually how it works with her.”

Draco frowned and rested his head against Neville’s. “I understand. It’s okay.”

Hermione frowned and huffed. “It’s not fair! You’re her only grandson! She should listen to you!”

Neville sighed again. “That’s not how it works with her, Hermione. She’s not going to listen until she needs me more than her beliefs. She didn’t last this long by being flexible. At least, that’s what she thinks.” Hermione clearly did not understand at all. “I’m sorry, but can we just go do what we’d planned for the morning? I just want to move past this for today, think about something else, and enjoy my birthday.”

She nodded and wiped her face. “Yes, of course. Whatever you need, love.” She smiled and kissed his cheek.

Their morning went roughly how the previous afternoon had gone, Hermione and Draco reviewing what Neville marked as useful, and occasionally discussing something specific. Hermione determined they would need help from more experts on arithmancy and the fiddly bits of the architectural enchanting. They also learned that the architecture itself would have to be rebuilt to be able to physically hold the energy of three severed strings. Most of the specifics went over Neville’s head, but the generalities did make sense.

They would need to do the construction with the help of a magical architect. When the space was physically complete, it would need to be prepared with runes in arithmantically specific ways while all the soulmates incanted together. That seemed like it could take quite a while and be physically taxing, plus the incantation could not be interrupted. Then, at the end of the incantation, they would all sever and do something to apply the soul bond energy to the room. And, at the end of it all, it would take a long resting period before the room could be used.

As for retwining, after all the bond mates recovered, they could all retwine in their own time, provided feelings were strong enough to support a new bond. This was the bit that relied on the strength of the new bond.

Neville’s head was swimming with the information as they took a break for lunch.

Halfway through the meal, McGonagall took Neville aside. “Your grandmother came to see me this morning. I understand you had an argument. I have not seen her so angry since our school days. She asked me to look into whether you’d been placed under Imperius, of all things.” Neville let out a noise of anger, but she continued. “I explained to her in no uncertain terms that she was out of line and that you had shown no symptoms of any curse. I also described Mr Malfoy’s changed character and explained that he is not the villain she supposes.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, making him feel quite small, despite the fact that he towered slightly over her. “Neville, I am proud of you for standing up to her. Please know you are not alone in your convictions.” She gave him a thin but genuine smile. “And, Happy Birthday. I hope your day has improved from the morning.”

Neville sniffed lightly, feeling the tears behind his eyes. “Thank you, Professor.” His breath hitched. “Thank you.” He nodded and returned to the table with Draco and Hermione, trying to act as normal as possible.

The afternoon continued as the morning had, but with added breaks for each of his partners to ravish him slightly in private.

Harry came up to the Hog’s Head for dinner and the five bond mates celebrated Neville’s birthday and privately discussed the plan for the Room. Neville was extremely insistent that this was the topic of the evening and would not respond to Hermione’s desire to talk about Gran’s appearance that morning.

The Chosen One had apparently completed the war trials for now. So, after the weekend, Harry was finally coming to stay at the castle until construction was absolutely complete. Neville was glad they would all have some time together to prepare for the huge task they had set for themselves.

Hermione, of course, was the architect of the entire project, but each of the other bond mates would take on an aspect of the process to pursue with experts in the field. Harry was excited to take on the architecture itself. Ginny would tackle the correct runes for each stage of the incantation. Draco would write the incantations. Hermione would wrestle with the arithmancy to pull all the other parts together. And, Neville would handle the safe severing and how to do the retwining afterward. Draco also volunteered to arrange and pay for all the international portkeys they would need to either bring in the experts, or go to the experts in their home countries.

Over the previous weekend, Hermione had taught Draco how to enchant the twinned journals so that the experts could share information more easily than by international owl or floo call, and he had purchased a large number of blank books to twin on his shopping spree the previous day. They would be able to send the twinned journals to their experts starting tomorrow morning.

By the end of the night at the Hog’s Head, everyone was very excited. As they left the pub, an owl swooped into a landing on the pub’s facade and dropped a letter addressed to “Neville, Hermione, Draco, Harry, and Ginny, Hog’s Head, Hogsmead”.

Neville opened the parchment. Luna’s swirling script shone in the light of his Lumos.

> _Hi Everyone,  
>  As we’ve all chosen our roles, I choose to be the one who double-checks that disaster won’t strike from anything we overlook or do wrong. I miss you all, but I’m glad I took myself away to adjust and so I could be helpful instead of “fucking creepy” like Ginny says.   
>  Please tell Ron it was from me.   
>  Love,   
>  Luna_

They passed around the letter as they walked back up to the castle. They all agreed it would be good to put Luna’s ability to this kind of use.

Ron woke as Draco and Neville came into the dorm, complaining he had been having a lovely dream.

Draco smirked and threw off their line. “Luna sent it to you, Weasley. She told us to tell you.”

Ron scowled and spelled his curtains closed with a groan.

Neville fell asleep that night with Draco wrapped around him. It had been a lovely birthday, just what he wanted.


	15. Mint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville, Draco, and Hermione get ready for, and then attend Harry's birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my very favorite chapters in the whole series. I hope you enjoy it, too!
> 
> I also posted ch 1 of "Please, Call Me Narcissa" this week. I'll be posting ch 2 in a few days.

July 31, 1998

Friday morning dawned with more rain and only one body in bed with Neville. Draco was snoring loudly on his back with one arm flopped across his face. Neville found he wanted to get to the day rather than staying in bed longer. He had things to do, a whole subject to learn in only a week, if Luna was to be believed.

He would send one of the twinned books to Sarah Moulin to start the conversation and request some of her time in the following week, either here at the castle or in Montreal. It was exhilarating to find that others would be relying on him again. He would be a part of a community in a way he had not really felt since the Battle despite his part in reconstructing the castle.

Neville asked Hermione to check his letter before he copied it in his nicest script to send it. She added a few questions, and he sent it with the magically-shrunken book using one of Draco’s hardier owls to cross the Atlantic.

He spent the morning reading everything they had so far on retwining. It was rather depressing as most of it was written for people with frayed or unwillingly severed strings. It was a lot of exercises on how to build the trust necessary to twine again. He was leaving the severing part for after his weekend trip with Draco.

Hermione was beginning the complex calculations of the arithmancy. As she concentrated, she was doing that thing with her quill where she sucked on the end as she thought. It was profoundly distracting as it made him think of her mouth doing other things.

After sending their own letters, Harry and Ginny departed for Twelve Grimmauld to get ready for Harry’s birthday party that night. Apparently Kreacher had whipped himself into a frenzy preparing all week, and a few of the elves from Black House were assisting with today’s preparations. Neville wondered how big this party would be if multiple house elves had to spend days preparing. Harry just smiled and said he wanted to celebrate being alive with everyone, and that it would be an interesting mix if everyone showed up.

As tea time approached, Neville, Draco, and Hermione flooed off to Black House to get ready for the party. Apparently, Narcissa had gone shopping for them all, and offered to do Hermione’s hair and makeup. Neville was a bit anxious at being dressed by his boyfriend’s mother, but Draco had been assuring him all week that Narcissa had an uncanny talent for dressing others, and he would look like a million galleons at the party.

So, the three partners found themselves at Black House having tea with Narcissa before the apparently necessary primping that went with the unexpected social event of the season.

As they all wandered up the stairs after their snack, Narcissa had taken Neville’s arm. “I’m so glad you’ve come again, Neville. How did your cuttings take to planting?”

“They seem happy so far. I’m hoping they don’t rebel when I transfer them to larger pots in a month or so. The moondew is so temperamental when it feels alone.” He felt warmed that she asked.

She nodded. “If you replant it with some succulents to keep it company, you’ll find it isn’t so grumpy.”

At the top of the stairs, Draco cleared his throat behind them. “Mum, as much as we’d all love to sit around talking about temperamental plants with you garden swots for the next hour, we’d really better get ready instead?” Draco had an oddly amused grin on his face.

Narcissa smiled and cocked an eyebrow before turning to Neville and Hermione. “Of course, my darlings! I’ve laid out two options for you each in the guest bedrooms. If you’d like to take baths or showers, there is a private ensuite attached to each of your rooms.”

She showed Neville and Hermione to their rooms. “You’re welcome to stay in these rooms after the party as well. I’ve had the beds made up for you.”

Neville had never seen so many bath and styling products outside an apothecary before. The water was somehow the perfect temperature and felt like it was getting him cleaner than the water at Hogwarts did. He found that one of the ten shampoos in the shower was his usual shampoo with tea tree oil and mint, but even this felt like it was fancier somehow.

As he combed his hair in the mirror afterward, his skin looked like it had been burnished somehow, and the comb he used was drying his hair as he styled it.

Was he somehow gaining muscle? This mirror seemed to think he was, giving a slight coo as he turned back and forth to check himself out. This whole bathroom felt like a calm and gentle hug from someone who believed he was an incredible person.

It made him think of Gran. She currently did not believe he was an incredible person, or at least she thought it in the bad way. He had no idea what to do about their relationship. It seemed utterly fucked. He did rather wish he had gone to visit his parents on his birthday as he always had, but he was also satisfied with spending that day with people who loved him who he loved in turn with a minimum of confused feelings.

When he chose between Narcissa’s two outfits, he ended up choosing the lighter-colored of the two outfit options. She had laid out everything he needed, down to socks, boxers, and shoes. He decided to keep his own boxers beneath the rosy khaki trousers that fit him perfectly. Then came the almost translucent linen shirt in a sort of matching pink, and a bow tie he would need Draco’s help with. His socks with a pattern of dirigible plums waving in the breeze went into beautiful tan suede shoes that matched his belt. Topping the entire ensemble was a blazer in a sort of muted pink and cream and tan paisley that changed colors between the three so slowly, Neville had stared at the garment for fully a minute before actually registering the color change.

He looked at himself in the triple mirror in the corner. There was a different person where he should have seen himself. He looked like a full-on adult, and he did not think there was an enchantment on this mirror to make him look more ideal.

Neville felt like he was sneaking over to Draco’s room with his bow tie in hand. It probably felt like sneaking because there was no one else around and the house was nearly silent except for the occasional murmurings of the portraits along the hall.

One portrait hung across the hall from Draco’s door of a young man with blond hair (of course), in a largish neck ruff with a paisley jacket similar to Neville’s. The nameplate said he had been Aloycius Blacke, died in 1618, painted in 1574. The young man raised an eyebrow at Neville’s appearance.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Is this what flowerets weareth the present day?”

“What? What’s a floweret?”

Aloycius tutted. “Thee, thou are the young sir, the floweret that weareth such finery. Thou art cater-cousins with the youngest mast’r, Draco? I see mine own youngest great-grandson cometh and goeth with thee, and the young mistress in the chamber there.”

Neville had _no idea_ what was happening. “Yes, we’re together. And, yes, this is what Narcissa got for me to wear to the party tonight.”

“Ah! A party! And, bid me, this is what thee shall weareth to the party?”

“Yes?” Why was this ancient portrait asking him about his clothing?

“Thee seemeth did confuse. I has been fascinated by the changing fashions of the years since mine own death. Thee not bethink tis a did bite diff’rent? I wouldst knoweth not how to weareth clothing such as this.” Aloycius sighed and played with his ruff.

“It’s a bit different, but--”

Draco’s door flew open and he scowled at Aloycius. “Stop bothering my guests about their clothes, Aloycius, or I’ll move you…” He pulled Neville inside and the door banged closed again.

Draco was still in a towel and sat heavily on the bed next to a pile of clothes. “I can’t go, Neville.” He looked up at Neville with the most pathetic look on his face since that night at Harry’s house.

When Draco did not continue, Neville sat gently on the bed beside him. “Okay, why?”

Draco frowned. “I don’t know who’ll be there, and I don’t want to have something happen to any of you like your Gran yesterday morning.”

Neville shook his head and wrapped his arm around Draco. “Well, I’m sure Harry didn’t invite my Gran to his birthday party.”

Draco scoffed. “Well, no, of course not. But, someone like her? Someone who thinks I’m the same as my aunt? Or Lucius?” He shuddered. “Or, what if someone thinks my mother is like that? I mean, she’s not really been in the right, but she’s hardly unredeemed.”

Neville nodded. “That’s all fair. We’ll keep an eye on her, but I think she can handle herself. And, Hermione and I won’t leave you to fend for yourself with anyone scary. Plus, there’s Hermione and Harry’s publicity plan that’ll make things more polite. And, do you really think Harry would have invited anyone who’d be an overt arsehole that way? Anyone who’d be like that would be much more subtle than Gran is capable of.” He rubbed Draco’s arm. “Is there anything else?”

He sighed and flopped onto his back on the bed. “I’m scared about the Room of Requirement business. And, you, I’m scared of what happened yesterday morning, about what saying that stuff to your Gran means.”

Neville shook his head in thought. “I mean, it just means I’m an adult who can handle my own life, not a kid she can bully into thinking what she wants.” He shrugged. “I’m kicking that rock down the road, if I’m honest.”

Draco’s towel had come undone. It was a thing that Neville noticed because Draco’s package was threatening to appear from under the towel. Should Neville try something now, before Draco dressed in his party clothes, or should he wait and remove Draco from his party clothes later? They might all be too drunk later. Best to fuck first.

Draco was making thoughtful huffs from his reclining position on the bed. Neville slid his hand toward Draco’s leg, brushing it with the back of his hand and running his fingers teasingly up Draco’s thigh to let the towel fully fall off his hip, exposing him entirely. Neville smiled as Draco’s cock leapt into action with an emphatic flop.

“You know, Draco, my darling, getting off before we go would be an excellent way to calm your nerves.” Neville looked back to find Draco grinning.

“I totally agree, Neville dearest. I think we’d better keep you as pristine as possible, though. You look awfully put-together, and Mother would be disappointed if we got anything on these clothes before we go. I promise to undress you with my teeth later, though…” Draco winked.

Neville laughed. “That sounds like a lovely deal. Why don’t you stand in front of me and I’ll sit on the bed? That way I won’t mess up the trousers.”

Draco practically jumped up to stand before Neville. It was a good angle for them. Neville took off his jacket, floating it out of the area as Draco moved the other clothes to the side. Neville grabbed Draco around the waist then, pulling him into the V of his legs. He pulled Draco’s hips toward him and caught the tip of his cock in his mouth.

Mm, the taste of Draco was intoxicating somehow. He felt something come alive in him as he sucked the head and bobbed gently, relaxing to let this beautiful cock hit further and further back into his mouth on every drop of his head down the shaft. He held Draco’s arse in his hands, feeling the simultaneous squish and hardness. He looked up to see Draco’s eyes closed, hands on the back of Neville’s neck, scratching gentle circles into the edge of his hair.

Neville popped gently off the tip and licked up the underside of the shaft as he began to slowly pump up and down the length as Draco needed. He pulled gently on Draco’s balls and ticked just behind them, earning a slight thrust into Neville’s waiting mouth.

“Nn, Neville, your mouth… incredible. Wish I could just fuck your mouth, but later… Ahh, yes, just like that, just like that… Please, Neville, please, I love you….”

He loved looking up at Draco as he came. The look of pleasure as he spilled into Neville’s mouth was the most beautiful of all Draco Malfoy’s looks. And, with Draco standing naked before him, Neville felt he had just serviced a Greek god. Draco’s fringe had come loose and was hanging over his forehead. Neville reached up and caressed it back into place. Draco caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his wrist, then bent to kiss him thoroughly on the mouth.

“That was just what I needed, my love. How did you know?”

Neville chuckled and handed Draco a pair of shorts. “There are many mysteries still to unravel in me, boyfriend.”

Draco dressed in a suit that was a sort of light gray that shined as he moved, but just looked like a standard suit when he was still. He had a thin tie in the same shade of gray but the shine on the tie was green when he moved.

Oh, Draco Malfoy in a suit was like looking at a fucking magazine cover. “How are you so fucking hot in any amount of clothing from none to a full suit?”

Draco glanced at Neville in the mirror with a smirk as he tied his tie. “I’d say it’s hereditary,” he shrugged, “and that’s because it is. All of my sires look fantastic in a suit, and that includes my mother.”

Neville took his own tie over to Draco and wrapped it around his neck. “Okay, how does this one work?”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know. Mother sent my Yule Ball tie to me with a charm on it that tied it for me. I haven’t had to tie a bow tie myself. I’d have Mimo do it, but she’s over at Twelve Grimmauld. Mother will have to come do it.” He fetched his wand and was about to press it to his throat when Neville stopped him.

“Can you teach me that one? The murmur one? It’s dead useful.”

Draco nodded. “It’s a little weird because you have to keep gently twisting or vibrating the wand the whole time or it cuts in and out.” He demonstrated the motion on his palm. It did look weird. The initial wandwork is just this little swoop and twist, then touch your throat , vibrating or twisting the wand gently as you speak. You’ve got to think of the person, and they’ve got to be within about 500 feet. If you try on Mother, she’ll reply to you so you can hear what it sounds like. Or, if you try on Hermione she’ll probably demand to learn it, too. Swotty minx.”

Neville laughed and tried it, lowering his voice to a whisper as he spoke. “Narcissa? I’m trying this murmur spell. Can you hear me?”

There was no response. Draco did it and got a faraway look in his eye ten seconds later. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, it didn’t work that time. She says to keep practicing on her until she comes in to teach us both how to tie a bow tie.

Neville tried again. “Narcissa? I hope this works. Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Again. “Narcissa? I’m trying again. Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“Maybe if you try doing the sort of up and down gentle vibrating instead of the twisting? The twisting works better for me, but the vibrating works better for, oh, Andromeda for instance.”

Again, now with the up and down vibrating instead of twisting. “Narcissa? I really hope it works this time. Can you hear me?”

Narcissa’s voice came through like the sound of Lee Jordan on the wireless, a little hollow, but definitely her, inside his head, a smile clear in her voice as she spoke. “Hi Neville. I heard you that time. I’ll be in soon to help with your tie, just need to finish Hermione’s makeup. You’re both going to faint when you see her.”

Neville laughed. “It worked! It sounds so strange! Like the resistance radio broadcasts.”

Draco tilted his head to one side. “You mentioned that before, didn’t you? What were those?”

So, Neville explained the way the resistance to Voldemort had the radio broadcasts starting after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and how that was how so many people had known to show up at the Battle. It was all news to Draco. How had he missed that?

Draco shook his head in amazement. “It’s a bloody miracle the lich’s army never got to Lee Jordan. The old monster fucking hated anyone ever having information about what was going on.” He sighed, looking sad.

Neville hugged him around the neck, resting their heads together. “It’s how he had to do it to keep control, I think. If anyone knew anything, it all would have fallen apart.”

Draco chuckled, holding Neville around the waist. “I mean, it all fell apart anyway. Just look at what Mum did in the forest. He never expected that from her. He never expected anything from her, and he got exactly what he deserved from it. Then, he was defeated by Expelliarmus of all fucking things. I’d say things couldn’t have fallen apart for him any more than they actually did, love.”

Neville smiled and then stepped back as Draco went to answer a knock at the door.

“You look lovely, Mum.”

Narcissa stepped into the room in a sheath dress that showed off her legs, patting Draco’s cheek as she stepped into the room. “Thank you, darling. I’m really pleased with how everything looks on everyone this evening. I’m glad you went with the gray. And, Neville! I’m impressed that you went with the rose pallet! I knew it would complement your coloring. I’m not sure why more men don’t wear pink! Anyway, it really suits you, dear.” She held out her hand and Neville deposited the tie. She turned him to face the mirror and turned his collar up, standing behind him as Draco leaned against the mirror, looking like a mannequin come to life.

“Okay, so this side should be a little longer, then put this one over that one and flip that end to the back. Yes, now hold this end so the wide section looks like the end-result of the bow because when it folds over onto itself it matches. You’ll keep this part like this and put the other end over it. Oh, keep this side just a little loose for the next part. Okay, now you’ll push the remaining end through the loop on the underside there. Between the initial crossover and the loop you’re holding. Yep, now I’ll take my fingers away, and you can pull both sides to tighten and straighten it to your liking.”

Neville actually fucking did it! It was a different type of magic than he had ever done before. But, he found it felt like growing things. There was an order to it and it could be explained. He could not help but smile since it looked like a proper fucking bow tie!

He was so overjoyed that he turned and hugged Narcissa. She patted him on the back and stepped away.

Draco was staring at him with an odd look on his face. Neville smiled at him and he clearly realised he had been staring and smiled, his whole face lighting up. “You look fantastic, love.”

Neville felt that warmth again. “Have I mentioned that so do you, Draco?”

Draco slid off the wall and practically sauntered the two steps toward Neville. He pulled Neville’s hand into his. “Yes, you might have mentioned it, but far be it from me to keep you from repeating it.”

A knock came at the door and they turned to find Hermione, posing like a model. Her hair was totally flat against her head, but shone in the light from the hall. Something was different about her eyes. They were sharper but also looked bigger. Her lips were a dark dark red that made them stand out in her face. She was wearing a muted ruby strapless top that looked a bit like a corset in a similar shiny fabric that seemed to be staying up by some sort of magic. Her trousers matched her top and were cropped just above her ankle. She wore high heels that put her right at Draco and Neville’s height. She was carrying a cream-colored jacket and a new purse. The purse was the strangest part of her whole outfit as Neville had not seen her without her beaded bag since the Battle.

She lowered her voice to a husky tone. “It’s all Prada, loves.”

Draco could not speak, making only a sort of wheezing sound. Neville felt his mouth go a little dry. It was like she was a different Hermione again. It went with her haircut. This was the adult Hermione. This was the Hermione who had chosen him. He stepped toward her and pulled her in, loving the feel of her height against him in new places.

“Prada is good…” He kissed her chastely, as Narcissa was standing right there, but the kiss promised unchaste moments to come.

She seemed a touch breathless when they parted. “You like it?”

Neville nodded. “I think if Draco can ever speak again, he’ll agree.”

From behind him, Draco made an odd sound and Neville turned to see him doubled-over laughing noiselessly. He shook his head, trying to say something. “It’s just, three months ago, you both hated me… And, now you’re standing in my room, looking more attractive than anyone else we know, about to go to Harry Fucking Potter’s birthday party, _in my back garden_ , and we’re all going together because _we’re in a relationship_?!” He lost himself with laughter again. “What is this? How did any of this happen?!” He cackled.

The humour was lost on everyone else, though. Hermione stepped toward him. “Draco, you look very nice tonight, too…”

More laughter, but this did calm him down somewhat. Draco’s face had gone dreamy as he looked at Hermione. “Thank you, love. You look incredible.”

Neville felt a momentary pang of something he did not like. He reminded himself it was an unnecessary feeling. He shook his head and forced himself to smile. “Shall we go show off our beauty to everyone else?”

Narcissa clapped her hands gently. “Yes! Let’s all go! I transfigured a gate into the fence this morning, so we can go straight through.” She ushered them all out.

Twelve Grimmauld looked like a different building now. Instead of being a dark gray, it had been painted a sunny yellow. There were a few plants in the garden, although they all looked to be mundane. The group let themselves into the kitchen where four house elves were preparing a mountain range of food.

“Mimo, is that mini beef wellington?” Draco’s voice was excited.

The elf in question piped up from the end of the long bench. “Mimo made Master Draco’s favorite!”

Draco bit his lip in excitement as Hermione started laughing. “Your favourite is beef wellington?”

He nodded and Hermione looked at Neville with a cheeky grin. “I guess you’re his favourite, then…”

Neville had no idea what was happening until his evening at the Hog’s Head came rushing back to him. “Oh, Merlin, that’s incredible… I had no idea!”

The Malfoys stared in confusion at them. Hermione laughed and explained it.

They all made their way into the hall where Harry and Ginny were already greeting a large man with dark hair and a thin older woman with similar features.

Harry wore a tan suit and had wrestled his hair into a semblance of directionality. He smiled when he saw the group from Black House. “Ah! Hermione! You look… uh… good?” He looked to Ginny, who nodded. “Hermione, this is my cousin Dudley and Aunt Petunia.”

Dudley stepped forward and shook Hermione’s offered hand. “‘S nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Hermione tilted her head. “Oh, you can call me Hermione…” She shuddered. “I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am.”

Dudley was still shaking her head, looking slightly star struck. “Harry forgot to cancel his subscription to the paper, so I ended up with about a year of reading when we got home. Thank you for everything you did for Harry, to keep him safe, you know…” He seemed to catch himself and withdrew his hand. “Anyway, yeah, thank you, miss.”

Hermione nodded and smiled. “I’m just glad you could come home finally.” There was a distant look in her eyes until Draco stepped forward to fill the suddenly awkward silence.

Draco extended his hand to shake with the muggle man. “Hello, Draco Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you.”

Dudley took Draco’s hand as if it was an actual snake. “Malfoy? I’ve heard of you, too…”

Draco continued shaking his hand as Dudley processed the wizard in front of him. “If you’ve been reading the Prophet, I expect you have, yes.”

Dudley’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “But, they did let you off. And, Hermione and Harry testified for you, and you’re together now…”

Draco nodded. Everyone in the hall seemed to be holding their breath. Dudley nodded as if making up his mind. “If they think you’re okay, you’re okay by me.”

Narcissa had found her way over to Petunia and held out her own hand now. “Good evening. I’m Narcissa Black, Draco’s mother. It’s so nice to meet any of Harry’s family.”

Petunia looked sourly at Narcissa’s hand for a beat longer than was polite, but did take the proffered hand. “Petunia Dursley.” She gave a tight half-second of a smile and released Narcissa’s hand.

“I hope you had an easy time finding the place. We do like to keep it a bit difficult for muggles to find us in the city.”

Harry shook his head. “I had their floo connected to mine. Easiest that way.”

The front doorbell rang then and Ginny answered it, immediately breaking into a huge smile. “Kingsley! You made it after all!” She hugged him as he stepped into the house.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was now the tallest man in the hall and exuded a presence that drew all attention to him. He looked like he had stepped off the cover of a magazine. How had Neville never before noticed how incredibly attractive their Minister of Magic was? His suit looked like it was made of the same material as Draco’s, although his was a sort of light purple that shimmered as it moved, and he wore no tie, having left the collar of his shirt open two buttons instead.

“Harry! Happy Birthday! Thank you for having me!” He extended his hand to Harry and they shook with vigor, somehow sharing an inside joke with their handshake. “I managed to slip out before Millie could drop any last minute paperwork on my desk.”

Harry laughed as they jostled each other’s arms. “I’m so glad you could make it! We’re a bit at capacity here, so I’ll let you all go upstairs to the large parlor. Kreacher is serving punch and drinks.”

Hermione took the initiative to usher everyone up the stairs to the next floor. The large parlor was not one that Neville had been in before, but if his spatial awareness was not failing, he guessed it abutted the room with the telly. It had been decorated in a style that did not match most of the rest of the house that Neville had seen. He thought it might have Ginny’s decorating influence, with cream walls and modern-looking wainscoting. The room was almost airy with orange-patterned furniture and yellow accents.

The odd group was greeted by Ron, who was awkwardly holding a cup of punch as he sat on a couch looking miserable. Neville recognised Ron’s party face from the Yule Ball immediately. Although Ron’s face lit up when he saw Hermione, his frown reappeared immediately when Draco appeared behind her with his hand on the small of her back. Ron finished his punch and waved vaguely at them.

Hermione huffed and went over to whisper angrily at him for half a minute before returning to the group queued at Kreacher’s bar for refreshments.

Neville put his arms gently around her, pulling their hips together to whisper in her ear. “Are you alright?” She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Is Ron alright?”

She made a little wiggle of who-knows and sighed. “Is he ever? Ugh! I just told him Harry and Ginny better not catch him with that look on his face. He seems upset I wasn’t around to get ready with them, like I’ve chosen my boyfriends over my best friends? But, he didn’t exactly say he wanted us to all get ready together or anything.” She gave one last shake of her head and smiled at Neville. “It was quite nice to have some girl time with Narcissa, though. The second outfit she’d gotten me was madness. I don’t think she quite knew how formal it was, but I would have looked like a thirties flapper peacock. Incredible dress, but not right for anything but a formal ball.”

Neville laughed. “I can’t wait to see it for a formal ball. You can play the part of Draco’s patronus.” He gestured down at his clothes. “I actually really like this suit, although I did have a weird reaction from one of the portraits in the hall when I went to find Draco.” He explained about Aloycius Blacke. “And then Draco sneered at him before I went into his room?”

When he heard his name, Draco’s head turned to smile at them from where he was talking to Mrs Dursley and Dudley. When he turned back, he gestured to them and the two muggles’ eyes went wide as saucers. He had the biggest grin on his face, though, and as he spoke, their heads tilted and they glanced repeatedly at Hermione and Neville. Draco’s conversation partners kept staring behind them at Neville and Hermione until they got their butterbeer and punch, and wandered over to join the conversation.

Neville had taken Hermione’s hand at some point, and when they approached, Draco was saying, “...which is why they’re still staying at the castle at the moment and I’m at home on the other side of Harry’s garden fence until Monday.” His face lit up further when he noticed Neville at his side. “Speak of them, and they appear, I suppose! Mrs Dursley, Dudley, you already know Hermione, but this is my boyfriend, Neville Longbottom. He’s the man largely responsible for the Hogwarts resistance last year, and struck the next-to-last blow to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Plus, he’s probably the next Hogwarts Herbology professor.”

Mrs Dursley let out a little gasp and looked away, but held out her hand to shake Neville’s. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Neville took her hand and it was like shaking a bunch of licorice ropes trying to escape from a bag.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Dudley took Neville’s hand in both of his and shook vigorously. “Can I call you Neville? I think what you did was so cool! How did you know killing the snake would let Harry kill the bad guy? Do you still have the sword? How did you know what to do at all?! God, I have so many questions, I’m rambling. Sorry. Big fan of yours. Big big fan.”

Hermione was holding back a laugh. Was this what it was like for her _all the time_? Neville cleared his throat. “Uh, well, sure, you can call me Neville. I was just sort of trying to do what Harry asked me to do. He said take out the snake, so I tried to do that. I didn’t know why, but if Harry asked, I figured there was some reason, you know? The sword is back in the possession of the Headmistress at Hogwarts.” He took a breath. “Did that answer everything?”

Draco clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him a little closer. “It did! Dudley had just been asking who you were, since you’ve never had your picture in the paper.” Draco looked at him significantly. “So, I explained how we’re all together, so-to-speak.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and spoke directly to Mrs Dursley, who was still having trouble meeting anyone’s eye. “It’s apparently normal to have triads in wizarding society. I was confused at first, too, but it’s actually fairly straightforward.”

Mrs Dursley made a sort of confused wiggle and announced, “Please excuse me.” She made a beeline for the door, only to be intercepted by Narcissa before she could escape.

Dudley had begun peppering Hermione with questions now, all about Harry. “So, he’s really alright? But, the paper said he’d died. Was it like how they shock you back to life at the hospital?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, it’s more magical than that, I think. It’s also incredibly complicated how and why it happened at all? I’m happy to explain what I know, but most wizard-folk get really confused and bored halfway through.”

The large man shook his head. “It’s weird, I feel like this is something I need to know. I mean, I’ll always be confused if no one explains it, I think.” He sighed. “Just, if I ask too many questions, you can stop me…”

Hermione smiled and put her hand on his arm. “I don’t think it’s possible to ask too many questions, Dudley.” They went to sit on one of the couches, sinking into it rather more than Neville would have expected from the look of it.

Now that they were alone, Draco leaned into Neville with his hand on his waist and whispered in his ear. “So, you’d be my beef wellington?”

Neville almost spit out his butterbeer and started coughing. Draco’s chest was vibrating with a suppressed laugh. “You’re still a git, even if you are beautiful, Draco Malfoy.”

The couple took note together of the Daily Prophet photographer entering the room, nodding to the woman as her gaze paused on them.

Draco kissed his cheek. “It’s the same as when we tease Hermione about peaches, isn’t it? You’re a git, too, if I am…” His face twitched with fake haughtiness.

Neville snorted. “Yes, well, I’m definitely a git when I tease Hermione about peaches.”

“Whatever will you both tease me about?”

Neville laughed. “Uh, well, literally everything? You’re slightly overpowered in ridiculousness. Rich, handsome, talented, it’s too easy.”

Draco bit his lip slightly. “Talented you say?”

Neville gave a huff of fake annoyance but felt himself blush a little bit. “I said what I said.” A thought occurred to him. “So, did Healer Simons clear you to fly and apparate? Ginny and I never went out on brooms, but I did try flying on my own, and it went, uh, okay?”

Draco nodded. “I saw Madeleine on Wednesday and she was confident I’d be safe to fly or apparate safely now. She cleared me starting at eight tomorrow morning…” His eyes showed his fondness. “Slytherin Healers are the best…”

Neville chuckled and kissed his cheek just as the camera flashed. “If you say so, love.”

The couple watched as Narcissa led Petunia over to Ron, whose face suddenly lit up with panic as he leapt from his seat and extended his hand to shake. Petunia looked suspiciously at Ron, but seemed slightly more at ease as Narcissa monologued a bit.

“Hmm, Mother is really good at that.”

Neville’s head tilted with an unspoken question.

Draco smiled. “She found the two people most uncomfortable in the room and found a commonality between them that’ll make them feel less isolated. Even if they end up not liking each other much, which, they certainly won’t, they’ll both at least start to feel like being here. It’s one of her innate magical talents, I think.”

Neville shrugged. “I’d imagine she’s needed to find ways to smooth the edges all her life. It’s just another skill like riding a broom.”

Draco smiled. “Wise boyfriend.”

Kingsley approached the two men in the slowly-filling room. “I don’t believe we’ve actually had the pleasure of social introductions. Kingsley Shacklebolt.” He stuck his hand out.

Neville smiled and shook the proffered hand with confidence. “Neville Longbottom. I believe you’ve already met my boyfriend, Draco?”

Draco had a look of vague discomfort but shook hands. “Minister…”

Kingsley smiled widely in a way that made Neville feel things. “May I call you Draco?” Draco inclined his head slightly in acquiescence. “Harry and I pushed for your trial and your mother’s to happen as soon as the court was able. Dumbledore knew you’d been a pawn in Riddle’s plan since your induction, and we had his memory-testimony to use if we needed it. I would have done everything in my power, called every witness possible until the court would acquit you. I was never going to let you stay in Azkaban any longer than it took to get your acquittal.”

Draco’s eyes were shining just slightly. “Thank you, Minister.”

Kingsley clapped him on the shoulder. “Merlin and Morgana, man, it’s a party! Let me just be Kingsley for an evening.”

Draco smiled. “Thank you, Kingsley.” He shuddered. “And just a hint… call my mother Narcissa. She’ll insist…”

Neville and Draco did their best impression in unison. “Please… call me Narcissa…”

Kingsley’s laugh drew the attention of the entire room, including the woman in question. “Well, now I’ll have to call her Mrs Black, just to hear it from her myself.”

Neville chuckled. “It’s not to be missed.”

Their conversation turned to the castle, the couple explaining the immense progress that had been made on the castle. They also described the Room of Requirement project, a subject that caught Kingsley’s special interest.

“I’ll have to see if we have anything in the Ministry archives on this. Much of the historically significant literature on the castle is housed in the secure vaults at the Ministry.” He looked off in thought as he swirled his firewhiskey. “Tell me, is the castle repairing itself yet?”

Neville frowned. “No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

Kingsley nodded. “I’m not sure exactly why it’s occurring to me. Have you considered that the Room might have been the heart of the castle?” The couple was stunned, glancing at each other as Kingsley continued. “Maybe without the heart, the magic that would allow the castle to repair itself is missing?”

Neville grasped Draco’s arm. This had not been anything they found in their research. Neville’s mouth was dry. “You need to talk to Hermione…”

Kingsley nodded and Neville ushered him over to where Hermione and Dudley were ensconced in their conversation. “... so, with his soul being in the objects, we had to find ways to destroy the objects before we could truly defeat him forever.”

Dudley looked confused but excited. “And, that’s why Neville killed the snake?”

Hermione nodded. “Exactly.” She looked up with a smile on her perfectly red lips. “Hi, Kingsley! How are things at the Ministry?”

Kingsley swallowed his sip of whiskey. “Oh, fine. But, Draco and Neville were just telling me about your Room Project and said you’d want to hear my idea about it.” Hermione nodded with excitement in her eyes. “What if the Room is the heart of the castle?”

Hermione leapt from her seat. “Yes! Oh my god! That’s it!” She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “That’s it!”

A testament to his core strength, the Minister did not stagger at her momentum, merely patting her back with a shrug. “It’s just a thought I had, Hermione…”

She disengaged, wobbling back on her heels. “No, it’s exactly what I was missing! It explains so much! Why the castle can’t seem to repair itself, the strange feeling of something missing, even the staircases not moving! Oh my god, Kingsley, I could kiss you!”

Draco chuckled. Neville felt a grumble come out of his throat. “Maybe not, love?”

Hermione nodded, noticing again who was actually here and turning slightly pink with embarrassment. “Maybe not, no…” She bit her lip and took Neville’s hand. “Sorry.”

Neville smiled and nodded. It was enough.

Dudley was replaced on the couch by Kingsley as Hermione peppered him with questions. At some point, Andromeda had arrived with Teddy and Draco took Dudley to make introductions. The room was rather filled with people now. Draco and Neville wandered over to George Weasley.

George looked much calmer and not as peaky as that Sunday morning at Hogwarts when Neville had last seen him. He had been working on some new products for the store, including a potion he discussed with Draco at great length that sounded like a weaker version of the Calming Draught with less of the addictive properties. As their conversation wore on, he did begin to look more anxious and left the party nearly immediately after introducing them to Mrs Rose Figg and Mr Dedalus Diggle.

Later, Hermione found Neville talking to Ginny and Florinda Travers, a member of the Wizengamot with spectacles featuring enormous wings on the sides. Hermione held out her hand with a simple, “Your Honor…”

The witch appraised Hermione with a critical eye and shook her hand politely. “Miss Granger, well met this evening.”

Hermione’s eyebrow raised and she spoke through pursed lips. “I hear Harry is done with the trials.”

Mrs Travers nodded, holding Hermione’s eye. “Indeed. Twas an exhausting process with Mr Potter’s contributions to the proceedings.”

Hermione made a stifled chuckle in the back of her throat. “If Harry’s testimony was exhausting, mine must have been doubly so.”

Ginny let out a single bark of a laugh.

Mrs Travers frowned. “Quite. If you’ll excuse me, I find myself a bit parched.” She walked away swiftly in the direction of Kreacher.

The elves had begun a second course of the floating trays and the three remaining took a few of everything that came their way. Hermione gestured to Ginny’s dress at one point. “I like your dress!”

Ginny twirled slightly and the blue skirt belled out slightly to reveal a pattern of feathers hidden by the pleats. “Mum made it! I saw something like it a couple of weeks ago in a muggle shop in the city and when I told her about it, she just made it!” She jumped up and down a few times. “Oh! And! It. Has. Fucking. Pockets!” She shoved a hand emphatically into the side and showed off how much pocket there was.

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “No! Do you think Molly would help me with putting pockets into a couple of my dresses?”

Ginny’s head bobbed excitedly. “Yes! Or, it’s pretty easy, you could have her teach you? It might need adjusting if you do it on muggle clothes, but she can help you with that, too.”

Neville was lost. “Don’t clothes usually have pockets?”

The lecture that followed would haunt Neville for years and made him see society as a whole in a worse light.

The evening wore on with the triad bouncing around each other, drawn into conversations with seemingly everyone Harry had ever known.

Neville received the side eye from Aberforth as he chatted with Tom from the Leaky Cauldron. He found himself and Draco near Ron as he gushed over Myrtle Allen from the Chudley Cannons.

Hermione, Harry, and Neville learned that McGonagall had been scouted for no less than three Quidditch teams upon graduating from Hogwarts. Neville excitedly took notes on mid-century muggle music from Madam Pomfrey as she giggled drunkenly to Draco about seeing Simon and Garfunkel and Bob Dylan on a trip to New York City in the sixties.

He debated the merits of magical versus mundane fertilizer with Professor Sprout, Narcissa, and Andromeda.

At midnight, Neville held Draco as they watched Flitwick’s indoor fireworks as they all sang to Harry around a cake in the shape of his face.

Finally, Neville watched from beside the board as Ron Weasley beat Kingsley Shacklebolt at wizard’s chess at about two in the morning. Everyone not watching the game was either asleep or gone off to watch a movie in the other room.

Draco and Hermione had fallen asleep leaning against each other on a couch in the corner. Draco’s jacket was draped across Hermione with the chill from the open window beside them. Neville took their hands and they opened their eyes, stretching slightly.

“It’s over now. Kingsley lost.”

Hermione smiled, blinking her eyes. “Good for Ron. Time to go to bed?”

Neville nodded and helped them both up. Those couches were comfortable to a fault.

Back in Black House, they all fell into a pile in Draco’s bed. As lovely as Neville’s own birthday had been, he rather suspected he would enjoy Harry’s birthday parties more, if they were all going to be like tonight.

Sleep took them all and held them gently, no nightmares among the three of them, all night long.


	16. Aloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville and Draco search for the tangles in Neville's string.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late chapter due to life stuff this weekend.
> 
> I've posted chapter 2 of "Please, Call Me Narcissa", complete with relationship tag update... 
> 
> As always, tell me what you think of the chapter!

August 1-2, 1998

When they were pulled from the arms of sleep by the morning sun, Neville found he was genuinely excited to be going on an adventure. He had never really been an adventurous person, but the thought of chasing his string to its tangle was a mystery he did want to solve before severing.

His loves seemed to have woken at nearly the same time as Neville. It was one of his many favorite things in these relationships for Hermione to stretch against him as she woke. What followed Hermione stretching was another of his favorite things. Draco had lost his shorts in the night and apparently felt like showing off this morning. Hermione followed suit, leaving Neville as the lone pants-wearer. As Neville pulled his shorts off, Draco began stroking himself.

Hermione chuckled. “Is this how you two normally wake up? With a wank?”

Draco winked. “Only when I wake up with at least one lovely bedmate.” His hand continued to stroke, up and down, up and down, in a way Neville always found mesmerising.

Hermione’s own hand dipped lower, disappearing slightly between her thighs as she winked back and began a rhythm with her fingers that Neville recognised. “Sounds like a lovely idea this morning…”

Neville had always been a joiner, and this was the best sort of joining. He wasted no time in casting lubrication on himself, gripping his cock in the slickness of his hand and stroking with little squeezes over the tip. “I could get used to this, watching you both. It’s one of my favorite things.”

Hermione kissed him. “Me too.” Her fingers plunged deeper, harder.

None of them lasted long with the sight of the other two to spur them on and their own ministrations to send them over the edge.

At breakfast, the Daily Prophet had the center pages devoted to a full-page spread on what they reported as the “social event of the summer”, The Birthday of the Boy-Who-Lived-Again. Everyone looked fucking amazing in the pictures. Neville managed to be photographed four times, which was four more times than he had been seen in the Daily Prophet before. He was with Hermione in one picture, Draco in another, both of them in a third, and only Harry in the fourth.

It seemed like Hermione’s public relations plan had done the trick. Anyone looking at these photos would be sure the three of them were involved with each other. And, each of the photos told a specific story with its other subjects. Neville and Draco’s photo included a profile view of them talking to the Minister just after he finished laughing. Neville and Hermione’s photo was posed with Narcissa. The picture of all three was them toasting with Ginny and Harry.

Hermione found them each in the background of other photos, as well. There must have been thirty different photos in the spread, and it was an extraordinary representation of the evening. It seemed like everyone present had been captured, including Harry’s muggle relatives and squib neighbor.

Draco sipped his coffee and sighed contentedly. “I think this went better than we could have hoped.”

Hermione smiled. “I think so! It wasn’t difficult to convince Harry to let the photographer, Myron, in for the exclusive. And, with the promise of the next five years of his birthday photos, it wasn’t hard to convince the Prophet to keep Rita Skeeter out of it. It was good for Harry, too, keeping Rita out of his birthday for the next five years.”

Neville’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Were we supposed to be in so many photos, though?”

Hermione nodded. “Harry felt like he owed me a sizable news media favor after the Tournament, and presenting the three of us correctly was what I chose to call in that favor. I gave Myron very specific instructions on the shots we needed. Nothing with only Draco and I, nothing with only the three of us, one of you two with someone of prominent status, and one of me and Neville with another Slytherin.”

Draco looked at Hermione fondly. “Careful, Hermione, you’re looking a bit snake-like with all that scheming…”

Neville laughed aloud and stirred sugar into his second coffee. “Are you barmy? Hermione’s a lion to the bone!”

Hermione turned a very cute pink. “Can’t I be both?” She perked up again as she remembered something. “Oh! I have something for you both to take with you! Mimo?”

The elf in a pink dress appeared with a parcel wrapped in a large handkerchief. “Miss Hermione wants the surprise?”

Hermione smiled and took the package. “Yes. Thank you, Mimo!”

Mimo curtseyed and popped out of the room.

“I just had Mimo prepare some food for your trip. It’s just lunch and dinner for today...” She looked excited but slightly bashful as she handed over the parcel.

Draco smiled. “I can’t wait to see what it is!”

Leaving Hermione behind to research in the Black Library for the morning, the two men set out within the hour, apparating to a little copse outside the privacy charm of Gran’s house. After Draco placed Notice-Me-Not charms on them, Neville cast _Ostende Filum_ and his invisible red string appeared to him, going off into the distance to the west as it always did. They took off, riding two brooms from Draco’s collection.

As they flew west all morning, Neville noticed several points where the string had become caught on trees or bushes. Each of these was a fairly interesting specimen, and Neville actually took a large cutting from one variety of rosemary he had never seen cultivated before.

Draco chuckled as Neville pulled the collection tools from his broom’s saddle bag. “Of course you brought specimen jars…”

Neville shrugged and determined where to cut, slicing cleanly through the branch. “Maybe that’s the point of the trip? I mean, I can stare at your arse whenever I like at the castle, but there are only so many types of plants I can find without wandering around the countryside.”

Draco nodded. “Hmm, true.” When Neville had finished collecting the cutting, Draco caught him in a kiss. “You like to stare at my arse on the broom?”

Neville bit his lip and nodded, then kissed Draco again, parting his lips to deepen it and leave them both a touch breathless when they re-mounted their brooms.

At lunch, they stopped and pulled out the first half of Hermione’s parcel. It was bangers and colcannon mash for each of them!

Draco raised an eyebrow. “This one must be your favorite?”

Neville nodded. “How did she know?”

Draco laughed. “She’s magic.”

As the afternoon became hot, they took off their shirts and cast sunblock charms. Draco joked that with the Notice-Me-Not charms, they could have just gone naked and it would be fine. Neville hated the idea of flying starkers, despite Draco’s assurance that it was comfortable enough and that he had done it on the grounds at the Manor quite a few times.

“Wait, you’re telling me that your mum let you do that? She didn’t hex you into oblivion?”

Draco laughed heartily. “Of course not! She doesn’t know! Don’t Gryffindors keep secrets from their parents?”

“Okay, first of all, Gran is impossible to keep a secret from. Second, have the past seven years of school taught you nothing about Gryffindors? Also, have you met Harry Potter? HE stayed hidden for nearly eight months in the middle of the greatest man-hunt our country has ever seen. Ron even managed to keep it a secret from Molly. You’ve met her, puts the red in redhead? Where they all get their tempers?”

Draco smiled and shrugged. “I guess you’ve proved me wrong, Longbottom…” He took off fast on his broom and Neville struggled to race. He was abominably bad at going faster than about thirty mph as he felt he was about to lose control of the broom entirely and slowed to their agreed-upon pace again quickly. Draco slowed and then did a loop around. Neville swore for years afterward Draco made a “nyoom” noise as he passed Neville again.

By mid-afternoon, Neville’s bottom was beginning to bother him since he was unused to the muscles and pressure of a broom for any length of time. They found a secluded wood and Draco set up the tent as Neville cast a few Muggle Repellant charms Hermione taught him for the trip. She tried to teach him several more for the campsite, but Neville had no idea why they would need an alarm to tell them when someone was attacking if they had both Notice-Me-Not and Muggle Repellant. It made him a bit wistfully concerned for what Hermione had gone through the past year.

They spent some time apart before dinner. It was really pleasant for Neville to just relax and not be vaguely afraid of crashing all the time.

Neville found himself wanting to write down some of his feelings, and talk to Hermione.

> _Dear Hermione,  
>  How was your day? I found some Ringed Rosemary that my string was tangled on near Glastonbury. I’m pretty excited about what I might find tomorrow. Although, I didn’t find anything interesting this afternoon, so I have no idea what tomorrow will be like. We set down outside someplace called Idless? There were woods, so here we are.   
>  What if I don’t find it tomorrow? What am I supposed to do? Draco has to come back to the castle for good on Monday, and according to Luna, we’re all going to start on the Room a week later?   
>  Sorry, I’m getting anxious about this for no reason. It never mattered where the fucking string went before, so why am I so upset about it now?   
>  But, then, until recently I had no idea I wouldn’t be with my original mate for the rest of my life. I think I just always thought I’d find the tangle when I was supposed to, that I wouldn’t have to actively go after it. But now I’ve got to actually go after it before I lose it. What the hell!   
>  Also, by the end of the month, I’m going to be able to have a string bond with two (?!) people? I’m not sure what I did to deserve that, but I’m starting to feel like it’s okay.   
>  Fuck! That came out wrong! Sorry! I want this, but you have to admit, I’m not exactly a person anyone expected to see in a triad? And, that includes me! I never thought I was the kind of person who would be in a triad. But, I love you both so fucking much? And, I want to fuck your brains out, both of you? So, yeah, triad for Neville.   
>  Thank you for making lunch special. How did you know bangers and colcannon is my favorite? Draco says you’re magic, but I think I must have told you at some point I don’t remember.   
>  Speaking of favorite foods, I still feel kind of weird about what you said at the end of our fight the other day. Why did you have to ask if I was going to drink? Have I been that obvious? You were so nice to me after that, when you brought me back to the castle and when you FUCK! That’s when you asked about my favorite food. Merlin, how did I forget that? I thought it was so sweet at the time, too. No! Can’t get sidetracked. Why did you say that? And why does everyone keep getting so concerned about my drinking when everyone else is on potions all the time? I hate those potions, so why is having a whiskey to fall asleep through the night such a terrible thing?   
>  I love you, though. I have a hunch you’ve packed us beef wellington for dinner. I miss you, and I am starting to feel like things between us are more like I need them to be. I want to talk about it when I get back. Is that okay?   
>  Draco is looking at me with sex eyes, so I’d better go do… well, you know, something… about it…   
>  Love, Neville_

Draco and Neville spent the evening in bed, drifting in and out of sleep and sex and talking. It was a beautiful little bubble of their relationship that Neville felt lucky to have gotten before the certain intensity of the next few weeks.

It turned out that Draco was anxious about writing the incantation for a ritual they all seemed to be reinventing from wholecloth.

“I mean, what if I get it wrong, and we all die, or worse? Or, what if nothing actually happens?” Draco had propped himself up in bed, examining his toes with his head resting one drawn-up knee. “What if none of this works? Luna said we have a week? That’s not enough time!”

Neville ran his hand up and down through the hair on Draco’s thigh as he let out the anxiety that had apparently been building since their meeting at the Hog’s Head. “I think you’ll do well. Incantations always feel like they’re going to be magic when you say them with intention, right?”

Draco nodded, looking afraid.

So, you’ll know the right words when you sit down to write them, won’t you? Or, some of the words will feel right, and some of them won’t, so you’ll chase the ones that feel right.”

Draco nodded again. “But, what if none of the words feel right when I try to write them?”

Neville shrugged. “Then, we’ll all work together, and if it never feels like any words are right, it won’t be from lack of trying, and that’ll just mean we’re not supposed to do any of this.” He smiled and stroked Draco’s hair back from his forehead. “I think we can all feel that’s just not true…”

Draco smiled a little and looked down at Neville. “Yeah, I’m definitely feeling more and more that this is exactly what I’m supposed to do. Not just because it’s what Hermione wants, but also because I can feel that something is seriously from the castle. How did Kingsley know about the castle not repairing itself?”

Neville snorted. “Well, he didn’t become Minister of Magic just because he’s gorgeous.”

The blond head tilted to the side and Draco smirked. “Oh? He’s gorgeous, now?”

Neville pursed his lips. “I mean, yes? This cannot be news to you, boyfriend…”

“Oh, the Minister’s good looks are not the news. The news is you noticing that…” Draco’s smirk had grown to threaten the structural integrity of his entire face. “I thought I was the first man you ever noticed.”

Neville shook his head. “You’re the first man I ever fancied, but I’ve obviously noticed hot men before! I’m shy, not blind.”

Draco barked a laugh. “Wait, do you still think you’re shy?”

Neville nodded. “Of course. I’m always spending time alone.”

“How do you explain your extreme success at Harry’s party last night? How the photographer followed you around even more than HARRY POTTER? You weren’t shy, you were the life of the party!”

He shrugged. “I’m a new person to focus on, with a face and story no one knows? It doesn’t mean I want to be the focus, he just chose me.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “No, they focused on you because you talked to nearly everyone, and everyone loved you, you unbelievable man. Everyone knows you by reputation, and now you’ve made them love you for how you were at the party.” He thought for a moment. “What did you say at the end of the night when we were falling asleep? I don’t think you knew you were saying it out loud… Oh yeah, as much as you love your own birthdays, you’re going to love Harry’s more if they’re all like that?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “I mean, that’s not a shy person, Neville. I’ve never seen you struggle to find something to say to someone you’ve just met. Maybe when you were looking for your toad on the train, but Hermione really said everything for you that day.”

Neville put his hands up in surrender. “Fine! I’m not that shy, I guess?” He sighed. This whole “having confidence” thing was fucking weird.

In the morning, they found a bakery serving breakfast pasties and indulged in the local delicacy before mounting their brooms for the next leg of their journey. Neville’s string continued west, so west they continued with it.

But, there was only so far west they could actually go before they hit the aptly named Land’s End. Neville’s string continued out across the water, twisting in the wind, but clearly caught on something further west.

They were in a somewhat secluded area of the coastline, or rather, they were on a stretch of the coastline with only the Coast Path. Signs pointed to a castle about a mile north around the point, or a beach about half a mile to the east.

They sat in the grass and Draco pulled out a camera to take a few photos of them at the edge of the cliff. Draco had found them sandwiches for lunch, egg and cress from a muggle grocery store.

As he finished his first sandwich-half, Draco gestured to the ocean. “So, it’s going over there, then?”

Neville frowned. There were islands where Draco was pointing, and yes, that was the direction his string was still leading him. It felt like the end of the line was there, like he was close, but not close enough. “Yeah, I reckon it must be on those islands?”

Draco nodded. “The Isles of Scilly. I’ve never been. Have you?”

He shook his head. “Isn’t that the one they think was supposed to be Lyonesse? From the Arthurian stories?” Neville had been fairly interested in the stories as a child before Hogwarts. Probably half of wizarding Britain had been at eight years old.

Draco’s smile was as bright as the sun. “Yes, in some ways. There’s no way to know for sure, and most of the Arthurian legends overlap with the time of the Celts, making the whole thing pretty messy.”

Neville gazed across the sea. When he focused on it, he could see the string going straight to the islands. “It’s there. I know it is.”

It felt like he could practically touch it, it was so tangible somehow. It felt like everything was beginning to crackle as he focused harder.

There was the terrible issue of how to get to the islands, though. Neville was horribly afraid of apparating over open water to a place he had never been. But, the thought of _flying_ over the ocean was equally fucking awful.

Draco frowned. “Okay, two ideas. One, I go over, apparate back here, and I can apparate us both over. Two, I fly us both over on one broom and then we’re just there.”

Neville felt sick at the idea of them both on one broom over the ocean, as that would be profoundly unsafe. It was also a terrible idea for Draco to apparate twice for no reason except Neville’s fear. “No, those are both terrible options. I’ll just do it. I’ll just fly… over the ocean…”

Neville was on the cusp of simultaneously vomiting and crying the entire time. Draco stayed very close and kept saying it would be fine. The wind was a fucking lot, though, and Neville never felt like he caught his breath the whole fifteen minutes it took them to get to the closest island.

As they landed, Neville collapsed with relief. “I fucking hated that. Merlin’s balls, flying over the open ocean is bad! It’s like flying into a void but the void never ends! Don’t tell me you’ve done that before and it’s not that bad!” He looked at Draco who had also sat on the ground by the cliffside.

“No, I’ve never flown over the ocean like that before, but it didn’t feel as bad to me as it did to you, love. It was just sort of odd, like flying over nothing? Like how it’s harder to apparate over large bodies of water.” He frowned and rubbed Neville’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

Neville let out a groan. “Bloody hell, we’re going to have to do that again to go back, aren’t we?!”

Draco laughed. “No, we can apparate back. I can do it now we’ve been here. I don’t mind apparating over water.”

During his ordeal, Neville had let go of the string charm at some point. He cast it again and found that it wanted him to go nearly directly south. It was odd how he had stopped thinking of where it had tangled, and begun thinking of where it wanted him to go.

They followed the string across the much shallower water to a larger island, passing several smaller ones on the way. Neville could see that the string was finally caught on one of the smaller islands near the larger island. If he had a map of the islands, he would have some idea of where he was, or what to call anything.

They landed on the smaller island that seemed to be connected to the larger island by a tidal causeway. Among the massive rocks, his string was caught near some odd weeds.

Was that wheat? It was no wheat Neville had ever seen. What kind of wheat only had five or six kernels on a stalk? And, how was it growing out of a lichen on a rock?

That part of him spoke up for the first time in a while. What if this wheat was uncultivated? What if it was closer to feral than domesticated?

Neville looked closer at the lichen it grew from. The lichen had a slight yellow and purple shimmer. He reached toward it to feel its texture compared to the rock.

“Ow!” A tiny welt was coming up on his hand. The wheat had bloody stung him!

Draco’s wand was out, ready. “What’s wrong?”

Neville rubbed at the wheat sting. “The wheat attacked me?” He sounded unsure because, Merlin’s hat, it sounded mad to say it!

Draco frowned. “Huh. Are you sure?”

Neville sighed. “No, but you can try touching the lichen there. That’s when it stung me…”

Draco reached for the lichen and this time, Neville saw the whip of the wheat stalk as it hit Draco. “Ah! Yeah, that smarts a bit…”

Their hands were not swelling or turning any strange colors, so they assumed it was just a little nip. Neville’s mind reeled. He did not know of any magical wheat. And, this one had protective instincts?

He turned to Draco. “Can you take some photos?”

Draco rummaged in his bag. “I thought we’d use this for more sexy recordings, but I guess this is better for magical science or whatever… What should I record?”

Neville kissed his cheek. “A few close-ups of the lichen and the wheat stalk? Maybe we can get one of the wheat attacking? This is just incredible and I don’t want to miss the chance to catalogue it.” He felt a blush at how swotty it made him sound.

Draco’s smile could have sliced bread, though. “Yes! I’ll take as many as you like. Is this what you’ve been tangled on? Is this it?”

Neville frowned. The tangle had worked its way free as he looked at the wheat and its lichen, but the string continued south across the water again. “There’s something more over there. It’s still going south.” He pointed.

Draco nodded. “Alright. I’ll take a few here, and then we’ll go find whatever else is tangled!” He pulled Neville into a kiss that felt simply incredible. Everything that was happening felt like triumph.

Neville pulled on some shielded gardening gloves and held the wheat back so Draco could record the lichen, then caught the stalk and Draco took a shot of the struggling soft head of the stalk with its five kernels. Holding the head as still as possible, the same purple and yellow shimmered visibly on the kernels as on the lichen at its roots.

The wheat calmed eventually and Neville took a chance to pull two kernels from the frond. He slipped them into a vial and cast a long stasis charm on it before stopping the vial. He had no idea when he would have a chance to further examine this species. It would be after the Room project was complete at the earliest.

Draco had taken out his DH journal to jot a quick note to Hermione. “I don’t know the map-making spell, but I thought it’d be good to get something to show where you found this!”

Neville nodded and plopped down beside him. “That’s a good thought.”

Hermione answered quickly and Draco did the map spell, filling a blank spread in the DN journal with a map of the island and marking it with where they were.

They followed Neville’s string further south and slightly east, bypassing one island and coming to a stop near a cliff on what seemed to be the largest island in the archipelago. The string was caught between two rocks in one of the large formations at the edge of the cliff.

“Neville, is that Moondew?” Draco was pointing at a line of flowers in the shade at the base of one of the rocks.

As Neville approached the flowers, he could feel that this was what he was supposed to find. They _were_ Moondew, but no varietal he had ever heard of before. Normal Moondew were moon-white with hints of gray variegation. These had a bright blue and orange variegation with a different shade of green leaves. He felt a leaf between thumb and forefinger and it was almost a mossy texture. He looked up at Draco just as his string slipped free of the rocks holding it.

He was overtaken by a feeling of belonging and completion and had to sit down as the feeling passed.

Draco sat beside him. “This is it? Is it actually Moondew?”

Neville nodded. “It is. And, this is it. The string is free.”

Draco put his arm around Neville’s shoulders. “I’m so glad we found it. This is some really weird Moondew, isn’t it?”

Neville shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it having these colors before. It must be unique to these islands.”

Draco took a full roll of pictures then- of the flower, of the rocks, of Neville, and the two of them together. Neville sketched the line of flowers and took notes on their characteristics. As he documented them, one of the flowers seemed to be making a break for it toward him. Every time he looked up from his notebook, it was closer and closer to him, with the rest of the line still where it had been.

When Neville reached for the flower, it reached back. It almost seemed like it wanted him to take it with him. But, it was wrong to take a Moondew with him since Moondew were communal and this one belonged with its family here.

As he touched the leaf, it curled around his finger, rather strongly and did not let go when he tried to pull away. It seemed to want to come with him!

He wrote quickly to Hermione, asking for Professor Sprout’s opinion on the ethics of taking a communal plant from its family, even if it wanted to go.

They lay in the grass and the Moondew came up between them slowly, revealing about half of its bulb. It was the most mobile bulbed plant Nevile had ever seen.

“Is this really a Moondew? Aren’t they usually shy?” Draco’s finger was now caught by one of the leaves. He smiled as she stroked the leaf gently between two fingers.

Neville sighed. “Yes, and the others are obviously more like normal cultivars.” He frowned. “Does it seem like this one wants to leave to you?”

Draco nodded. “I was afraid to say it, because I didn’t know if I was just thinking of it like it’s a creature. And, it’d be weird to take a creature from its habitat…”

“Yeah, hopefully Hermione can get Professor Sprout’s opinion before it gets too late? I don’t know exactly what to do here.”

Half an hour passed in the quiet with the ocean breeze and Draco’s hand and the Moondew before Neville saw that Hermione had replied. Professor Sprout had no reference to magical plants on the Isles of Scilly in any of her books, so these seemed like significant finds. She also said if there was a plant that seemed to want to come with them, there was no particular issue with taking it, especially as Neville already had the Moondew from Narcissa’s garden potted at the castle to make friends with this one.

Neville still felt torn about taking this plant, though. It was nothing like taking Narcissa’s domesticated Moondew from her garden with the plan to plant it with other plants. This Moondew was _wild_.

As he talked it out with Draco, a large seagull landed on the rocks beside him and dropped a small envelope into the grass. Draco flipped it over and handed it to Neville with a smirk and eye roll. “Luna.”

Neville took a few deep breaths before opening the parchment. This would almost certainly tell him how to decide, and he took a second to feel a sort of resentment about Luna’s insertion into this trip, despite her assertions that they would not be together after resolving their tangles.

> _Dear Neville,  
>  I’m sorry to have to write. If I could find a different way, I would have done it, but this was the only way to get you what you need. You must take it. It knows you need it, and although it doesn’t know why, it wants to fulfill its purpose.   
>  You’ll need this Moondew, although not for quite a while. But, if you leave it behind, you won’t be able to find another like it. A Moondew that goes willingly on an adventure is the rarest of components.   
>  Also, the Moondew at the castle will love this one’s company with its strange accent.   
>  Sincerely, Luna_

Fucking hell. Neville sighed and handed the letter to Draco as he looked for the right size of jar in his bag.

Draco’s hand swiped over his mouth as he finished it. “Fucking hell, Luna…”

Neville nodded and gazed down at his Moondew. “Yep, pretty much.”

So, they packed away the notebooks and journals. Neville collected the Moondew into a jar packed with some of its native soil as Draco strapped their brooms to his pack.

Draco apparated them back to the mainland, then they took turns apparating each other back to Hogwarts from there. As they caught their breath in front of the gates, Neville felt a little sad that this adventure was over.


	17. Snargaluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his trip with Draco, Neville spends time with Hermione at the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for a discussion of the complicated use of alcohol as a coping mechanism

August 2, 1998

When they arrived back at the castle from their adventure in the southwest, Neville and Draco found Hermione in the library with Harry and Ginny. The news of the weekend was that Hermione and Harry had received letters back from their experts already, Luna had to poke Harry in the right direction once, and Ginny was nearly comatose from the boredom of cross-referencing runes.

Neville had intended to go off to the greenhouse by himself to pot his Moondew and the rosemary, but Hermione needed a break before dinner and wanted to know everything she had missed.

When he pulled the Moondew from its jar, it clutched his finger again and Hermione let out an extended coo. He smiled as it wrapped its leaf around her finger. “Luna sent me a letter that finally sealed me taking it. Apparently I’ll need it in the future? Because a Moondew that goes willingly on an adventure is the rarest of components?” He sighed.

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “That’s ominous as fuck. She didn’t say what it meant? Why you’ll need it?”

Neville shook his head and shrugged. “Of course she didn’t. It’s like she’s taken lessons on being as vague as possible while still getting her way. I can’t remember her being so frustrating before this year.”

She frowned. “Well, from what I’ve been reading on energetic potentials, the ability of the Alithini Diairesis is tapping into the potentials of choices, and if they’re not very careful with how they proceed with their knowledge, they can cause the wrong choices to manifest, even if that was not their intention. Because intention is meaningless to the level of choice Alithini work in.”

He frowned. “But, why is she being so insufferable about it NOW?”

Hermione shrugged and leaned into his side. “Maybe she knows how this all turns out and how it would have turned out if you hadn’t decided to sever? She’s all-but said she’s set the three of us up so you’d be able to be happy without her. Maybe that’s actually true.”

Neville suddenly felt immensely tired and found himself yawning deeply as he patted the soil in the pot where the two Moondew now cozied up to each other.

Draco returned to Black House for a final evening with Narcissa before returning in the morning. Similarly, Harry and Ginny returned to Twelve Grimmauld to be teenagers together in privacy.

Hermione seemed lonely and spent most of the evening by Neville’s side, bringing her books to the common room to stretch out with her legs over his in a loveseat.

Neville tucked into his twinned book with Sarah Moulin, her tight and efficient script covering the front and back of the first page.

> _Good Morning, Mr Longbottom,  
>  I understand you perfectly. Thank you for thinking of me to assist with this incredible project. I do mean incredible. I am not confident that this is an achievable goal, but I will do what is in my power to help in the time you have laid out for me. In the order you have asked, I respond.   
>  1) Severing is not to be done lightly. It does not seem that you approach this from a place of triviality, but I must emphasize that this will be a profoundly unpleasant experience for everyone in your cohort.   
>  2) The spells to sever the fate thread are not only a danger to the fate thread. If performed incorrectly, these spells have the potential to sever pieces of the life force or slice into the magical core. Injuring either life or magic is not at all similar to releasing the potential of the fate thread. If the severing spells affect anything but the fate thread, the housing you are building for this potential will be corrupted and insufficient to hold it.   
>  3) I will teach nothing through correspondence except to explain the purpose of each spell. The danger of performing these spells incorrectly is too great. As you have read my book, you will have noted that I never name these spells, even euphemistically, and I do not know why you would presume I could trust that they could be taught through words alone.   
>  4) Although I do not want to visit Britain, I feel your request has left me with no choice. I will come to train your cohort, if only to remain safe in the knowledge I did not allow Mr Harry Potter to accidentally kill himself with your incredible plan.   
>  Please let me know if Wednesday or Thursday work for my journey.   
>  I shall not be back in my office until Monday afternoon. If you are able, it would be amenable to me to speak to you directly through this book at 6 PM your time on Monday.   
>  -S. M._

Brusque but generally open to the plan was fine. Neville wrote a short note back saying that he would be ready to talk at 6pm Monday, and with information about her portkey.

Hermione had rearranged herself and was now curled up against him, reading his response over his shoulder. He handed the book to her to read at her leisure and wrote to Draco about arranging Ms Moulin’s portkey.

When Neville finished writing to Draco, Hermione had put the books aside. “I’m just not really in the mood to read for some reason.”

Neville’s face flashed concern. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

She rolled her eyes and laughed before kissing his cheek. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just hitting a wall with what I can do before Harry’s meeting tomorrow. It’s fine, I’m just the one checking everything and I can’t do any checking until there’s something for me to check.” She pulled his arm around her. “But, this is nice. I like just being, when it’s with you.”

He smiled. He liked being that for her, even if it was not his favorite thing. “Me too, I think.”

He caught her mouth in a kiss, angling her head back to deepen it until a tiny moan escaped her lips. Suddenly he felt alive and on fire, needing her, to taste her, hear her gasps as he brought her to the edge and made her beg him for release.

Where had that come from? He pulled away slightly, leaving her panting. He bit his lip and stared at the floor.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hermione drew his attention back to her. “Where did you go, Neville?”

He started to speak. “I… I was thinking about what I wanted…” To make her beg him for what she wanted, to hold her on the edge until she could not think anymore, to feel her come apart on his hands, tongue, cock, anything. He could not say it. Maybe it was just that they were in the common room where anyone could hear?

Hermione waited. He just kept opening and closing his mouth until he became so frustrated he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the stairwell, racing up to their floor until he could close and lock the door. Then he was on her again, pressing her up against the door, kissing them both breathless, just so he did not have to put words to what he wanted.

But, she pushed him away and he let her. “What is going on? What do you want, Neville?” Her eyes were wide.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his face in his hands, rubbing it. It just felt so wrong to want anything, especially after the fuss he had made of Draco and Hermione that night…

He opened his mouth again, to try to say any of it, but just felt like a fish after several minutes. It felt wrong to want anything. At all. “I can’t say it? I keep trying to say it, and I can’t? I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Hermione sat on the bed and put her hand on his leg. “I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you.” He could barely look at her.

He frowned. It was only Hermione, though. He could say it to Hermione. He had said so many filthy sexual things to her. She wanted that from him. “I, uh, I want to be in control?”

She smiled. “Okay! That’s not so strange. Is that all?”

He licked his lip, emboldened. “I want to be in control of when you come. I don’t want you to do it until I say, no matter what I do. Then, I want to make you come over and over and over when I finally let you.” It was much easier to say all this once he had started...

Her eyes went dark and she licked her lips, nodding and staring at him. “Oh, yes, okay. Yes, that’s definitely, uh, control. I like how that sounds… but, what if I can’t stop myself coming before you say?”

He leaned forward. “I’ll just make you keep coming as long as possible if you can’t control yourself.”

She smiled and nodded. “I think you mean, if you can’t control me…” She crashed her mouth into his, flicking her tongue into his mouth as soon as the opportunity came, then climbed into his lap, wrapping herself around him as he held her. He relished the feel of her curves, her soft curling hair as his fingers drifted up into her hair, her bum both firm and squishy in his palm.

She began rolling her hips against his burgeoning erection, finding that the denim between them hid nothing in this position. She seemed to be taunting him with her hips as she cast the contraceptive charm.

He quickly flipped them over, pinning her hips in place with his own, and not in a way she could easily gain any traction. He slid two fingers up into her shorts to find she was already soaking through her knickers. His voice came out in that sultry tone he barely recognised as his own voice. “You really like the idea of me in control, don’t you? What made all this honey, Hermione?” He let a finger glide along the elastic and she shook slightly with the sensation. “What did you think of that made you so wet for me?”

Neville kissed and licked down her neck as she gasped out a reply. “I’m just so excited by the newness of it… I thought of you holding me down, keeping me where you want me, and just, ahhh, just playing my body like an instrument… just making me forget everything but you...”

He moved further down, loving hearing what she wanted. He wanted to give it to her, wanted to make her turn off the rest of the world. “What else?” He pulled down her tank top, teasing a rosy nipple into a point with his tongue and teeth, then sucking hard like she liked and nipping gently with his teeth.

“I want to do what you tell me. I want, ah! I want to test myself, push myself, and I want you to push me.” She pushed herself up on her elbows to look in his eyes. “I WANT you to be in control, because I know you, Neville. I want to give you what you want, want you to do to me what you want…”

Neville kissed her again, hot and desperate. She wanted what he wanted. And, he just wanted her, coming and coming and coming. One of them must have done a wandless Indumentissa, because their clothing slithered off their bodies, briefly blocking their mouths on each other, but ultimately leading them to their goals much faster.

He did play her body like an instrument, teasing the orgasms from her with his tongue, cock, tongue, hand, tongue, and cock, in that order. She began cursing him out when he at first kept her on the edge without a release, cursing that put Ginny’s cursing to shame. When he finally let her release the first time, she let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, a wordless cry of her shattering in the best way.

Then, he kept her going, over and over, fucking her at just the angles she liked, rolling his tongue around her clit until she gushed, giver her clit a brief respite from overstimulation by curling his fingers into her at that same perfect angle.

When he finally let his own control go, she was a whimpering mess, but she still reached for him, pulling him onto her, into her, still needing him. The look of ecstasy on her face was beautiful. He pumped into her, pressing on her abdomen again, knowing from her moans that he was hitting that spot. She was clenching now, the walls fluttering as she cried out again, coming, not able to get out his full name. It undid him completely and he came so hard he saw stars.

He pulled her under the covers as she shivered slightly despite the warm evening. She pulled him close and buried her face in his chest. She said nothing for a few long minutes and Neville was not sure whether to panic. “Are you okay, Hermione? Was that okay?”

She nodded and her words came out muffled by her unwillingness to move from his chest. “Yes, I loved it. Just really intense, like coming off a high or something.”

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and sweat. “I’m glad. Do you need anything? Maybe water?”

She nodded again and popped her head up slightly. “Water sounds good.”

Neville accioed an empty canteen and filled it halfway with Aguamenti water before handing it to Hermione. She drank it in one long draw, emptying and then making a face. “Ugh, why does that taste like Firewhiskey?”

He frowned and sank down into the bed, feeling small. “Because it’s a transfigured Firewhiskey bottle, and it must not have been as empty as I thought.

She frowned and shivered against him. “So, that’s how you’ve been hiding drinking so much.”

He huffed. “I actually haven’t been drinking that much since Aberforth won’t sell me bottles. Plus, having someone else in bed makes it so I don’t need it to fall asleep.”

She was running her fingers through his tiny patch of chest hair. “It seemed like more than just to sleep. It seemed like it was really a lot a couple of weeks ago.”

He huffed and turned away to pull on his shorts. “You weren’t here a couple of weeks ago, Hermione.” When the pants were in place, he held her gently against him again. He should still comfort her after that intense sex despite the fact they were now finally having this conversation.

Hermione held him and looked up into his eyes. “No, but even before that, after I came back the first time, Harry said he’d found you totally pissed a couple of times.”

Neville sighed. “Yeah, he did.” He stared up at the canopy of the bed. “Do you know I hate taking potions?”

She shook her head in confusion. “You take Pepper Up all the time.”

He shook his head. “That’s because with Pepper Up, it just does what it’s supposed to do immediately and makes you feel normal again then stops. But, the other ones, the Calming Draught is like someone put a bag over my head with holes cut out for my eyes. I hate how it makes me feel, like I’m separated from the world. Then, the Dreamless Sleep, I just feel like I’m dead for eight hours. I usually have some sense of time while I’m asleep, but not with the Dreamless Sleep. It’s terrible to wake up and have no idea how much time passed. So, that’s out, too.”

She sighed against him. “I had no idea.”

He nodded. “You also never asked me about it. No one’s ever really asked, just made their own assumptions about what I’m doing. I don’t want to be a drunk, it’s just that the alternatives right now are worse for me. I know I’ve said a lot of shite I can’t take back because of the drinking this summer. And, according to Abe, I’m not actually a fan of Firewhiskey since I don’t like it enough to savor it. I just want it to do its job of numbing me enough to pass out or not care what garbage someone said, or the fight I had with someone. If there was a potion that could make me feel how the whiskey does, I’d take it, but I don’t think they’ve invented one like that.”

She frowned and squeezed him around the middle. “I’m sorry I never asked. And, I’m sorry I said that when we were fighting last week. I just got this vision of you drinking yourself into a stupor instead of talking to me. I just feel bad I couldn’t do anything about it then.”

Neville sighed. “I mean, you can’t do anything about this. You can’t fix this, even if you want to. It’s my life to sift through and put back in order for myself.”

Hermione nodded again. “I know. I’m sorry. Draco had to tell me something similar recently. I mean, I want partners who don’t actually need me to solve their problems.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I mean, _I_ want partners who let me decide for myself what’s a problem in my life. I don’t think you’re hearing me at all right now, Hermione. If you think there’s a problem with how much I’m drinking and when, you can really only tell me what your opinion is, but that doesn’t become the truth just because you said it. Tell me something.”

She nodded. “What?”

“What are you afraid of with this?”

She frowned and thought for a moment. “I don’t like the idea that you’re hiding it. And, I’m worried of you doing something to accidentally hurt yourself or someone else. Harry said you’d moved a lot of rubble alone one night.”

He nodded. “Yeah, and that’s the only magic I’ve done while drinking. I’m just drinking a lot, but not during work, or if I need to do magic or something. I’m trying to tamp down bad thoughts and calm down, not wind up dead.”

She huffed against him. “I still don’t like it. I don’t want you to keep hiding it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect that you’d like it. I’ll try not to hide it anymore.”

She shimmied a little further into the covers and pulled him close. “Can I stay tonight?”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “Of course.”

Hermione began to snore lightly against him and sleep came slowly to Neville as he considered everything that had happened that weekend.


	18. Smithii Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley sends a number of useful books for the group's research. Neville arranges for his expert to come to the castle. Harry's expert comes for the day and charms everyone intensely. Neville has a strange dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry to go more than a week late on posting this chapter. I needed to work through some major issues with chapter 19 before posting chapter 18. As I've gotten those worked out, I'm finally confident I don't need to make any changes to this chapter.
> 
> Secondly, after chapter 19, there will be another long break before I post the final chapter. It's very very long, and although I don't anticipate any intensive issues like with chapter 19, I'll need longer to do the rewrites than normal. 
> 
> I hope you're all still enjoying the story! As always, let me know what you think!

August 3-5, 1998

Monday morning was bizarre.

Hermione left Neville’s bed some time in the night, and Neville woke to Ron’s snoring from across the room as Draco slipped into bed with him.

Breakfast brought with it Draco’s probation supervisor, Auror Mathys. The auror seemed both bored and suspicious. Draco and Professor McGonagall disappeared with him until it was time to begin the sparse morning work groups. When they reappeared, Auror Mathys was gone and Draco and McGonagall’s faces showed identical looks of consternation.

As Neville, Hermione, and Ginny left for the library, they met Draco on his way out of the castle with Seamus and Dean. They all stopped to talk about Draco’s meeting. Hermione took Draco’s hand. “You’ve been assigned to keep on with the work groups, then?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes. Mathys is insistent that actual rebuilding work was intended for my probation, and the research is insufficient to fulfill the requirement. I’ve floo-called Mother, and given her a twinned book, so she’ll be available for the portkey arrangements and any books from the Black Library. Mimo will be able to bring anything you need.”

Neville frowned. “Does Narcissa know what we’re doing?”

Draco smiled. “She said she doesn’t want to know any details or she’ll worry, but I did tell her I’d be using our vaults to fund the project. She just wants whatever we’re doing to succeed, so any books or resources are of course, ‘at our disposal’. If nothing else, I think she wants to be sure we have what we need so we don’t hurt ourselves.”

Neville smiled at the thought of Narcissa worrying about them. “Well, that’s good, I guess.” He kissed Draco’s cheek. “See you at lunch?”

Draco nodded and turned to Hermione. “Can you bring my books to lunch? I don’t want to lose too much time.”

Neville laughed as Hermione nodded and kissed Draco’s other cheek. “How did I fall for TWO swots?”

Before they could settle themselves in the library, Hermione left them with Draco’s books. It seemed she was more interested in going to read Draco’s books _to him_ that morning as he worked on the Quidditch stands. Neville was left in the library with Ginny who swore softly every few minutes as she created patterns of runes in several languages with a pencil on drawing paper and occasionally scribbled notes back and forth with her expert in the large folio she was using to communicate with him.

Harry was gone to Bologna for the morning after securing a meeting with the preeminent magical architect in Europe, Mx Silvioa Arganum. Hermione had been helping him prepare all weekend for the meeting so he could get the best advice from them about building a strong enough housing for the energetic potential of three soul bonds.

Neville’s research that morning consisted mostly of trying to understand how to measure the bond energy. Obviously, they wanted to use as much of the energy as possible, but from Hermione’s notes plus the little Draco had written down so far and his own reading, there were as many measurements for the bond energy as there were bonds broken. That had been a bit of a sticking point for Harry in his research that weekend, too. It was difficult to explain how strong the room needed to be if they did not know the strength of the energy it needed to contain.

An hour before lunchtime, a parcel carried by four owls arrived from the Ministry, thudding onto the table with a crash. Ginny fished a bag of owl treats from her bag and divvied it up between the four of them as Neville read the address and laughed.

> _To Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, and Ginny Weasley. Working their minds to madness in Hogwarts Library. Hogwarts Castle. Shhh…_

He spelled open the parcel to find seven very old books with six pairs of white gloves. A letter from their Minister of Magic was laid atop the pile.

> _Dear All,  
>  It was lovely to get to know you all a little at Harry’s party Friday night. As promised, here are some further resources I was able to free from the Ministry archives. The only way I was able to secure their release from the building was to promise Helena Macmillan none of you would touch them directly with your grubby teenage fingers as she feared. Although that is a joke at the expense of your youth, I will say that most of these are the only copies in existence, and if something happens to them, it will come out of Draco’s paycheck when he begins at the Ministry next year.   
>  I tried to find at least something for each specific area of expertise. If there is anything further you need, I would like to continue to assist. Unfortunately, there are a few books in the archives that even I cannot persuade my head archivist to allow to leave the building.   
>  \- Writings of Godwin Gryffindor - This has a section on his grandfather, Godric Gryffindor, and the stories he was told as a child by Godric about the building of the castle, including some incredibly specific stuff about the architecture.   
>  \- An Honored Study of the Magic of Hogwarts Castle by Hawys Clowser - Written in the early 1200s, this is an extremely rare book. I believe a reference to this book was where I had the idea your Room is the heart of the castle.   
>  \- Writings of Wymon Wilgash - The true original He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named from the late 1300s. A real piece of work, later in his life after he was imprisoned, he wrote about a siege of Hogwarts that failed, and there are likely pieces of this narrative that will be useful, especially the unbinding spells they used that were unsuccessful.   
>  \- Account of Constantine Filmore’s Years Inside Hogwarts’ Secret Places - Does what it says on the tin. This seems to be from the mid-1800s, and everything in it is simply incredible. Filmore seemed oddly obsessed with the way the Room worked, and the room seemed to tell him things about itself, if he’s to be believed.   
>  \- Writings of Thurstance Childe - This one is everything known about soul bonds in 1571. There is also a lengthy commentary added in 1744 by Augusta Anisana, apparently agreeing with and refuting Childe in equal measures.   
>  \- Ounyousyual Incantatashyuns for Similarely Disposetioneed Wizeards by Jamis Janestone - If you can make heads or tales of the extreme spelling in this volume, it is apparently the best guide for writing incantations.   
>  \- New Compendium of Runes for Buildings - This was the best I could find for Ginny. May apologies, but archivist Macmillan and I could find nothing more useful for your specialty. I’ve made a few inquiries about Rune Masters to assist you, but to tide you over, here is the most useful book I could find.   
>  Please someone write to let me know how it goes, if anyone has a moment. It’s good to feel useful to Hogwarts again.   
>  Cheers, Kingsley_

Neville passed the letter to Ginny and put on a pair of gloves to handle the book intended for him. The extra pages jammed between the roughly bound ones were clearly newer, but still old as balls. He immediately noticed that Augusta Anisana had clearly been in a fit of pique as she wrote some of these responses as they were scrawled haphazardly in a way that made Neville wonder how she had not broken her quill nib or ripped the parchment.

“What the fuck!? Fucking Minister of Magic can’t find anything to help me?!” Ginny balled up the parchment and threw it at the stack of books. She fell back into her seat with her head in her hands. “I’m going to fuck all of this up!”

Neville retrieved the parchment and spelled it smooth again. “No, you’re not. Luna or Hermione will tell you if something won’t work.”

Ginny huffed and looked up at him. “I fucking hate this.”

He frowned. “Take a break, Ginny.”

She shook her head. “I’ve got to figure this out!”

He shook his head back at her, imitating her, hoping it would make her laugh. “You’ll feel better if you take a break!”

She groaned. “Fucking fine!” She pushed back her chair so hard, it tipped over and she did not right it before storming out of the library.

Neville righted her chair with a flick of his wand and returned to the folio. There seemed to be either no new information, or any new information from Thurstance was immediately contradicted by Augusta’s commentary. The one thing he was able to put together was a picture of why she had been researching the strings using her ancestor’s writings.

Severing her bond had been Augusta’s main goal, as that was the only way she could find to leave her marriage due to the contracts in place. But, it had been family legend that she might be able to use the energy from the bond to craft a place to remove herself from society, to hide from all of it. Everyone seemed to believe it was madness to _actually attempt it_ , but she felt the truth in the family legends and pursued it until she could make it more than legend.

Augusta Anisana’s way of writing about her interior life was fascinating, and Neville suspected he was probably only the third or fourth person to ever read it, if the pristine folds of her parchment were to be believed.

Ginny returned just before lunch to clean up, looking windswept. At lunch, Draco looked distracted and despite Neville bringing his remaining books, he took no notes and never turned a page of the book he opened. They sat far from Hermione and Neville caught Draco staring at her for much of the meal hour. Of course, Neville wondered what was happening since Hermione was not similarly afflicted.

Harry reappeared near the end of the hour looking dazed and a touch tipsy. Hermione came over to hear what happened. “They’re an absolutely incredible person, that Arganum… They’re coming out to see what we’re working with tomorrow.”

Neville nodded. “Are you alright, Harry?”

Harry nodded, drinking Ginny’s lemonade. “Never better. They really like their wine with lunch…” He looked between Neville, Draco, and Hermione. “They’re in a triad, too. Weirdest meeting ever.”

Hermione huffed. “Fine, alright, but did they seem to think we could do it?”

Harry’s foot caught on the bench as he crawled over it, causing him to tip over rather precariously into Draco’s lap as he pulled his foot free. “They just seemed Italian about it.”

Draco’s eyebrow went up and he gave Harry a massive shot of side-eye. “What exactly does that mean, Potter?”

Harry squinted in thought. “They just talked a lot about how everything is beautiful and limitless when one is in love, and that there’s almost nothing we can’t do with the six of us, two in love, and three in love, and one to find love.” He put his face in his hands and rubbed it hard. “I couldn’t tell if they said that several times, or if there was something wrong with our translation charms.”

Draco made him repeat it and wrote it down. “They said it how many times? And, in how many contexts?”

Harry explained it the best that he could in his addled condition until it was time to go back to work. Neville lingered to take Draco’s notes back to the library. When the others had gone, he lowered his voice. “Draco? You seemed distant at lunch. Are you alright?”

Draco sighed and looked torn for a second before he looked at Neville with sad eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve heard back on my first inquiry about Hermione’s parents.”

Neville’s eyes went wide and he sucked breath in between his teeth. “Morgana’s bones, what is it?”

A tiny anxious smile crossed Draco’s mouth as his brow furrowed and he whispered half in disbelief. “It’s definitely them. They’re… they… it doesn’t look good for their memories…”

Neville frowned and reached for Draco’s shoulder. “Are you going to tell her?”

Draco sighed again and looked like he might cry. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks I should wait until all this is done.” He gestured to the books and parchment. “She doesn’t need one more thing to think about right now, but I don’t want to keep it from her, either.” His eyes met Neville’s with the question hanging between them.

Neville shook his head. “I think you have to tell her.”

Draco blinked and tears did begin to fall from his grey eyes. He nodded slowly. “Yeah… but how? It’s so little.”

Neville pressed their heads together, cradling the back of Draco’s head. “It’s more than nothing. Just tell her.”

Draco nodded, looking miserable. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I was just being a coward. I’ll puzzle it out.”

Neville shook his head but smiled. “I’ll lend you some courage whenever you need it, my love.”

They parted then, Draco going to the Quidditch pitch, and Neville going to the library for the afternoon. Hermione grilled Harry all afternoon about his meeting that morning until Harry became frustrated and went for a walk with Ginny.

Neville took a shorter dinner with Hermione so they could talk to Sarah Moulin together at six o’clock. It took quite a lot of effort to not let anything slip about her parents, but in the end, Hermione was so focused on getting ready for the meeting that she was totally oblivious to any awkwardness before that.

At exactly six o’clock, Sarah Moulin’s tight script began on the page.

> _S: Good Afternoon, Mr Longbottom._
> 
> _N: Good Evening, Madam Moulin._
> 
> _S: Perhaps we should be more familiar. You may call me Sarah._
> 
> _N: Of course, and I’m just Neville._
> 
> _S: Of course._
> 
> _S: Are you and your cohort prepared for my arrival Wednesday?_
> 
> _N: Yes, we are all ready for you to come on Wednesday. Excited to learn and all that. We can host you in one of the empty professors’ rooms._
> 
> _S: And, you understand that none of the spells I will teach will be written down in either word or gesture? By myself or any of your cohort? You understand these are dangerous spells that must be practiced carefully as any wrong movement or sound is liable to harm irrevocably?_
> 
> _N: Yes, of course. How do we practice it if we can’t do the spell itself until it’s time?_
> 
> _S: I employ practice wands with dampening cores for the wandwork, and verbal practice without wands for the verbal component. This was a good question, Neville. It has put my mind somewhat at ease about your group._
> 
> _N: Well, that was Hermione’s question, our leader and one of our partners. Most of my questions don’t have any chance of being answered until you’re here in person because of your rules._
> 
> _S: I see. Well, at least your partner and leader is asking the right questions. Would that be Hermione Granger?_
> 
> _N: Yes._
> 
> _S: Is she severing her fate thread as part of your cohort?_
> 
> _N: Yes, would you like the list?_
> 
> _S: I think that would be best, yes._
> 
> _N: You know me, and Hermione, and Harry Potter. My string is twined with Luna Lovegood. Hermione’s is with Draco Malfoy. And, Harry’s is with Ginny Weasley._
> 
> _S: I see. And, for the triad, is the other partner Harry Potter?_
> 
> _N: No, our triad is Hermione, Draco, and me._
> 
> _S: And, Harry Potter will stay with Ginny Weasley?_
> 
> _N: Yes, they are planning to stay together._
> 
> _S: That remains to be seen. And, how many of the bonds are unresolved?_
> 
> _N: That’s a bit sensitive. Is this important?_
> 
> _S: I have simply never heard of two mates severing before resolving, but it seems you may be planning to do that yourself._
> 
> _N: If it’s not important to learning the spells, I’d prefer not to discuss it. Do you need any other assurances from me?_
> 
> _S: I believe I have everything I need to know. I must go now, as I have a class to teach this afternoon. I will see you Wednesday at 1 PM. Thank you for conversing this afternoon._
> 
> _N: Yes, I’ll be the one meeting you Wednesday. Thank you for making the time to talk. Good evening._

Hermione had been peppering him with questions to ask Sarah the entire time he was writing, to the extent that he had no idea how he managed to write a coherent sentence. Only when he finally asked the single question he had any hope of Sarah answering did Hermione sit back and simply read along with him. Neville was patient since this was Hermione’s first chance to ask any of the experts questions of her own.

Now it was over, Hermione was frowning. “I just don’t understand why she won’t tell us anything now.” She was rereading the conversation.

“Well, she’s the expert. She’s allowed to make the rules, Hermione.”

“And, why does it matter whether any of the bonds are unresolved? I haven’t seen anything about resolved or unresolved bonds in any of my research.”

Neville shrugged. He had not seen anything about that in his research, either. Probably Sarah would have some reason to tell them when she arrived.

He escaped to the greenhouses to check on his plants. The Scillan Moondew shook slightly with excitement as he gently stroked its leaves. He was astounded at how it seemed sentient in a way that most cultivated plants were not. What did it mean for its magical properties that it was wild? He wondered if any study had been made of the subject of cultivated versus wild varietals. He made a note in his tiny notepad about the question.

Draco and Hermione were missing when he returned to the castle. He hoped they were happy. Not just tonight, but also that they would really choose each other again in the future and that they could be happy together.

He found the book he had been reading and sat in the common room before the fire to read until he grew tired enough to sleep.

The next morning saw the architecture specialist’s arrival. Silvioa Arganum was a neat person in their thirties with bright purple hair and an intricately carved cane they relied on for walking. They seemed extremely interested in every new area of the castle they entered, placing their hand on the stone with a multitude of indecipherable looks.

Draco had been assigned to do anything necessary on the seventh floor with them so they could all work on the Room as needed. And, it was immediately needed. As soon as Arganum arrived in the large space of the once and future Room of Requirement, they began to give orders for the exact shape of the arch of the ceiling which everyone began to enact.

The Headmistress came to check on the group’s progress around ten o’clock and Arganum made a sweeping bow to kiss her hand when offered it, producing a blush from the Headmistress. Arganum recommended using steel i-beams for further support in addition to the vaulted arch and outer buttresses. They would return when those materials had been delivered, and would be most pleased to recommend several options for the suppliers. McGonagall left it in Arganum’s capable hands to have that part of the project also taken care of.

Draco and Arganum spent the lunch hour on quotes and down-payments from the suppliers, paying expedited fees for everything on Arganum’s list.

The group spent the rest of the day on the exacting specifications of the Italian architect and were pleased at the results. When Hermione brought Professor Vector in to consult on the measurements for the arithmancy, Arganum seemed extremely taken by the striking professor. How were they flirting with _everyone_ they met? Neville was so confused that they could be anything but single with the way they acted toward all the professors. But, it also seemed to endear them to those professors as they worked?

Somehow at dinner, Arganum produced wine for the group of them, including the professors who were involved. As they drank and talked, Arganum slowly questioned the rest of their plan out of them, including their individual specialists and specialties, finishing with Neville as the professors excused themselves to bed with wobbly legs.

Arganum’s gaze fixed on Neville with a twitch of their eyebrow. “So, Neville, you are the one to guard the souls in the severing and fix the strings after, then?” An eyebrow arched upward with a smirk to match it.

Neville felt weirdly uncomfortable under their direct gaze. “Uh, yes. I’m working with Sarah Moulin from Montreal. It’s a lot of responsibility but we’re doing our best.”

A new indecipherable look crossed Arganum’s face before the smirk reclaimed its place on their mouth again. “And, is she to come this week? I expect her methods will not have changed much, and she will not teach the severing hexes by correspondence?”

Neville frowned. “Do you know her?”

A softer smile took their face then, reaching their eyes as they gazed into their wine glass, swirling the contents and nearly whispering, “I used to, long ago.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “Were you in love?!” She was more than a little tipsy.

Arganum chuckled and looked at her with a hint of a wink. “Ah, Ginevra, such a question. There are many states of love, and we had a few, for a while.”

She blushed. “How do you make it sound so romantic?”

Harry stared at Ginny askance. “Hey!”

She wrapped her arms around him while keeping her gaze on Arganum’s half-chuckle.

Their gaze took in both Harry and Ginny. “When one must think too much about what one wants versus what others want, one can come up with a great many poetic phrases, Ginevra.”

Neville felt like the air had left the room. “Is it going to be a problem for her to be here? She arrives tomorrow…”

Arganum smiled kindly, patting Neville’s hand where it clutched his wine glass. “We are both professionals. You should not worry.” They stretched gently backward then, checking their watch. “Ah, it seems my time is expiring for tonight. I shall be back when the steel arrives.” They chuckled again. “Well, when the building materials arrive…”

They kissed each of the group on both cheeks and waved before Harry walked them back outside to portkey in privacy.

Neville’s head began to hurt. This wine was fucking potent. Hermione seemed to have fallen half asleep on Draco’s shoulder, and Draco had an odd look of drunkenness about him as well. Neville helped them both up to the Tower and handed Hermione off to Ginny to go up to their room before Neville and Draco stumbled up their side of the stairs.

As he tried to sleep clutching Draco to his chest, Neville thought of Arganum’s mysterious relationship with Sarah Moulin. He could not imagine how they could have met, although the wizarding world was not very big. From what Arganum said to Ginny, it was just an irreconcilable difference in what they each wanted, but the whole thing left Neville with more questions. His head swam.

The soft voice of his boyfriend came from the darkness before him. “Stop thinking about whatever you’re thinking about, Neville. You’re twitching and it’s keeping me awake…” Draco sighed. “If you can’t sleep, do you want to talk?”

Neville let out a breath he had not known he was holding. “I don’t know. It was just weird that Sarah and Arganum have a history, you know?”

Draco shrugged and rolled onto his back, pulling Neville into the crook of his arm. “Isn’t the strangest pairing I’ve ever heard of. But, we don’t exactly know either of them very well. Or, at all in her case.”

Neville frowned. “Yeah, it just feels really strange that two of our experts are exes.”

“Why does that bother you? Most people have exes.”

He huffed. “It just feels like, I don’t know, an extension of the weirdness of this whole summer. Like, we can’t escape it.”

Draco chuckled. “It hasn’t been that weird, has it?”

Neville was stunned and made a sort of choking noise as he tried to put words into what was happening. “Yes, it has! Just for me, I had sex with Hermione Fucking Granger, found out about Luna being my soulmate but we’re not going to be together, figured out I’m bisexual - because of YOU, got involved with both you AND Hermione, and found what my soul string was tangled on. It’s been the weirdest summer I’ve ever had!”

Draco was laughing harder now. “Yeah, it has been a bit strange. Hermione testified for ME before we fell in love through letters, then snogged in a lift and had sex for the first time the same night, which was also the night before she found out about my father’s assignment, then you and the whole wall in my brain shite and finding out half my memories of failure are fabrications for my own self-preservation.”

“Half? There are more besides the forest?”

Draco sighed. “Yeah, Madeleine has been having me re-examine a few of the memories from my father’s training, and it seems there are far fewer effective Unforgivables in my past than I’ve been believing. It’s been really awful going back through those memories, though.” He sniffed and his words sounded wet. “It wasn’t Avada, but I made it look like Avada for his approval and it was still so fucking awful.”

Neville nodded, pulling Draco into a kiss. It was not fair that this man who was capable of such goodness had been forced into such horrible deeds as a child. “It sounds really scary to find out your memories are wrong. I’m sure that’s why Hermione can’t handle what she had to do to her parents now, because as soon as they find out about their memories, it’ll be more about gaining their trust again than regaining their memories.”

Draco had tensed in his arms. “Merlin’s arse, that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

Draco released him and sat up, pulling the curtain open and rummaging around in his bedside table. “Not what you actually said, but it jogged my thinking. There’s been something bothering me about the memories Hermione gave me, and I think I just figured it out. The memory modification she did, it wasn’t exactly a memory modification. It’s more like she made her entire existence something they couldn’t think about, at least not properly. There was nothing about it that modified their memory, except the memory of what their names were, and that they wanted to move to Australia. It’s like she made them modify their own memories, instead of removing or replacing the memories they had. It makes it so much harder for a specialist to reverse, because the memory specialist has to convince them to do the work themselves, but if they want to do the work, it’ll make it more effective.”

“Sure.” Neville was a bit lost. He generally wanted to stay out of the issue of Hermione’s parents’ memory.

“It’s like she made herself a taboo to their minds. They couldn’t think of her without this memory charm coming in to wipe her away, and their own minds would restructure what happened in that memory without her. I’ve just got to write this down so I can owl Madeleine about it tomorrow.” He sighed and looked back at Neville in the darkness. “Talking things through with you always helps, Neville. Thank you.” He bent to kiss Neville’s cheek.

Neville smiled. “That’s nice to hear.” As Draco scribbled a long note to himself, Neville found the sound of the quill to be what lulled him into a deep sleep.

He was with Luna. But, she wasn’t exactly Luna. She was someone who looked nothing like Luna, actually. She seemed more like Pansy Parkinson, with a dark bob of straight hair. And, he wasn’t exactly himself, either. He could feel that he had longer hair than in his waking life. So, this was a dream, of something else. Not-Luna nodded as he thought it.

What’s going on? He had a lighter voice, and it sounded familiar. She held her finger to her lips and took his hand.

They were sitting in a cafe, on a cobblestone sidewalk beside a canal. She had the saddest look on her face. They could not be together. They were wrong for each other. He was going to be great, but he could not be great with her.

But, he did not care about being great. He wanted her. He wanted what they had. He? It felt wrong.

This. This was another part of why they could not be together. She was adamant. She would not be the reason he was miserable. She would not be the reason he could never be himself. She cried. He hated when she cried, especially when her tears were entirely misplaced. He tried to comfort her, to tell her that no matter what he became, he would still love her, would still want to be with her.

No! She didn’t want to be with him if he would be something besides himself. She could only be with him if he was _something_ , not _ever changing_. She wasn’t strong enough for that. She had seen what it could do to a person, that it would fray, that each new piece of who he would be would cause the tiniest cut, and she could not do that to him. She could not love someone who needed change as much as he did.

And, he felt it, that first cut. Like steel through his being. He recognised the feeling, and he hated that he could remember every moment that cut through him that way, each moment of fraying as Luna and Not-Luna cut through the strings that linked them.

Fine, if she would not have him, they could at least use the bond before it frayed completely, her strength together with his, before the end.

She agreed, though he had no idea why except that she was a practical woman, and if something could be made of their bond, it should be used.

Neville felt himself waking and tried to hold onto the dream. He needed to know. What happened? How did they use the bond?

A feeling came to him as his mind woke in the dark of the night. The story was not unique. They were so far from unique.

Neville was coming to love mornings, especially mornings with Draco. He understood now why Dean and Seamus were always fooling around in the morning. Two morning erections seemed like a dare and Neville and Draco had to take that dare.

Draco had the day “off from work” per the Ministry’s new probation guidelines. He would definitely be doing work, just not his Ministry-required work. Draco had a floo-call with his expert at eight-thirty, then would be learning the severing hexes with everyone else that afternoon.

At breakfast, Draco was scribbling and crossing out things over and over on a parchment, in a way that looked like he was simply beside himself with anxiety. Even Hermione noticed.

As he took another shaky breath and ignored the food piled on his plate, Ginny reached across the table and snatched the parchment from beneath his quill. “Oy, Baby Death, eat your fucking eggs so you don’t pass out in the floo and scorch your pointy arse-face.”

He lunged for the parchment as she shoved it down her shirt, then sat back down on the bench. “What the fuck?! I just need to finish this one phrase!”

Ginny shook her head and crossed her arms across the parchment lumps in her shirt. “Not before you eat your fucking breakfast…”

Hermione looked like she was about to say something but Neville shook his head. Hermione had not seen much of Draco and Ginny’s bizarre relationship, but Hermione getting in the middle of it was not a good idea.

Draco looked angry for a second before he sent Ginny the single-finger salute and began shoveling eggs and toast into his mouth. He finished the plate, staring daggers at Ginny the whole way through as she buttered her toast with Draco’s butter knife. He finished by shoving an entire slice of toast into his mouth whole, then held out his hand. “Giii ee aacc uh paaauhh.”

Ginny reached into her shirt and pulled out the crumpled parchment. “See, you feel so much better already, O Blondest of the Blond Ones…”

Draco snatched the parchment back from her and climbed over the bench backward. When he regained his feet, he gave her a two-handed flip-off. “Fuck you ever so much for forcing me to eat, Gin Gin…” He got a crazy look in his eye for a moment and he and Ginny started laughing before he turned to go with a normal wave.

Ginny called after him, “Good luck with your floo call, arseface!”

Hermione’s face was all confusion as Ginny looked over at her. “What WAS that, Ginny?”

Ginny laughed. “Oh, he needs a sibling, so I’ve adopted him to give him shit.”

Hermione sighed. “What?”

Ginny shrugged. “He needs someone to call him on his shit. Plus, this way I get to mock who he used to be, and he knows we actually remember that he used to be the bad guy.” She took a bite of toast. “Plus, I’m just an aggressive girl, and he seems to be alright with that. So, I let it out a little harder with him.”

“But, you just bullied him into eating breakfast!” Hermione’s head cocked to the side.

Ginny took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, because he wasn’t going to remember to eat, and you two are too nice to just take away his parchment and make him eat.” She gestured between Neville and Hermione with Draco’s butter knife before buttering another piece of toast. “I’m just trying to keep him taking care of himself so you two don’t lose it again.” She took a huge bite of toast.

Hermione’s had gone wide. “That’s completely mental, Ginny!”

Ginny shrugged. “Clearly Draco was fine with it, so…”

Draco’s floo-call went better than he expected, and his expert, an apparently ancient poet, was to host him and Hermione on Saturday to refine the incantation.

Just after lunch, Neville went to the Entry Hall to wait for Sarah Moulin’s arrival. As she twisted into existence with her back to him, Neville felt a strange sense that he had met her before.

She turned to face him, and Neville knew. He had met her very recently.

Sarah Moulin was the woman from Neville’s dream.


	19. Rose of Sharon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group struggles with their severing expert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this chapter!
> 
> There will be about a month break before the final chapter. My goal is to post the final chapter by October 10.

August 5-6, 1998

Sarah Moulin was a woman in her mid-thirties dressed like she had prepared for some sort of battle, in a leather jacket and cargo pants with straight black hair that coiled in a bun at the back of her head. She was almost as tall as Neville, approaching him with her hand extended to shake. She was at least ten years older than she had been in his dream last night.

“Neville Longbottom?” Her face morphed into a question as Neville was momentarily frozen in shock.

He shook his head to clear it and took her hand as solidly as his body would let him. “Yes, I’m Neville. Sorry. You must be Sarah Moulin.”

She nodded. “Are you quite alright, Neville?” Her voice had hints of not a French accent, but a Dutch one? “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He shook his head again. “No, just, you seem very familiar to me for some reason.”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure how I could. Perhaps you are simply remembering my author photo?”

He frowned, thinking of her at a cafe beside a canal. “No, I think it’s just a trick of the light. Sorry. I’ll show you to your room, then introduce you to everyone else.”

She gave a half-smile. “Please, lead the way.”

Neville had a hard time not staring at her as they walked. The dream must have been from Luna. Why in the fuck did Luna send him a dream about his expert?

When he left Sarah to get settled in her rooms, he made a beeline for the library where Hermione and Draco were researching. One of them would know what to do, right?! Merlin’s balls, what was he supposed to do with this information?

His partners were poring over Ginny’s runes with her.

Neville’s words came out all in a rush. “I have a weird problem, and only a couple of minutes before I have to go back!”

The three of them looked up and Draco smiled with an arched eyebrow. “What’s wrong with your expert…?”

Neville described his dream from the night before, ending with discovering that Sarah Moulin was the woman in it. “What do I do?! What the fuck is Luna trying to tell me!” Neville collapsed into a chair with the clock ticking down to his return to her room.

Hermione frowned. “Well, the couple from your dream is clearly an allegory for you and Luna. And, if she’s Luna, then you must be the soulmate.”

Draco also frowned. “I’m honestly surprised Luna hasn’t sent a letter about this. She doesn’t usually influence events like this without saying something. This is just a bloody nightmare…” He smirked. “No pun intended.”

Hermione smacked him in the chest and he gave an exaggerated startle before making a sort of purring sound. She looked back at Neville. “Sorry it doesn’t make any sense. I’ll write to Luna, see if she’ll tell us something useful about why she did this. It seems like more of a distraction than something helpful, like her usual machinations.”

Neville agreed and Hermione sent Draco off with him to act as a buffer until the rest of the group could join them.

When the two men approached, Professor McGonagall was making awkward chit-chat with Sarah. “We’ve had the architectural expert out yesterday, and they’ll be back tomorrow or Friday with some further construction materials. It might be good if you could have a meeting of the minds, as it were.” She chuckled in an inviting way, but Sarah just stared at her.

“Indeed. Who have you retained as the architect?”

The professor smiled. “They go by Arganum, Silvioa Arganum.”

Sarah’s unreadable expression hardened her mouth into a flat line. “Oh. Yes, Arganum. I’m familiar with their work.”

Draco elbowed Neville in the ribs and gave him an eyebrow waggle when Neville looked at him.

Neville took this as his cue to step forward. “Sarah, are you ready to meet everyone in the classroom now?”

She nodded. “Please lead the way. Thank you for your hospitality, Professor McGonagall.”

Draco tried to fill the silence on their walk up to the classroom with polite small talk, but Sarah was apparently not in the mood to discuss the weather in Montreal.

Ten minutes later, the five residents of the castle sat in a circle with Sarah in one of the classrooms on the sixth floor. Neville had no idea what to expect.

Sarah began by explaining the spells she could teach, with their benefits and drawbacks.

The first spell was for small cuts to release a tiny burst of the bond energy, but the energy could not be used for the sort of permanent enchanting they were doing.

The second spell was the most basic of the cuts, straightforward and safe with only one basic protection spell. Its only drawback was that severing this way meant those two mates could not retwine with each other again.

The third spell was best for retwining quickly afterward. It was essentially a controlled fray, but the wandwork crossed close to the body, making it easy to affect the life force of the caster in addition to the string.

The fourth spell was the definitely dangerous one, but the one that excited the room the most. It released the most energy, but as Sarah explained it, the life force and magical core were not protected separate from the bond itself. If any of the layered spells were performed incorrectly, the life or core energy would taint the bond energy, rendering it incompatible with any existing preparations. This cut was also closest to the body than any of the others, and the string would need longer to recover and grow to a length that could be retwined.

She remained tight-lipped and solemn as Ginny and Hermione debated which spell would be most effective with the runes and arithmancy. Ultimately, Spell Four would be the best for at least two of the three couples, but Sarah would teach Two, Three, and Four to give them the best chance of matching the cut with the arithmancy and runes for the enchantment.

There was a brief digression as Hermione argued with Sarah about why they were doing this.

Sarah frowned. “Your castle is mostly whole as we sit in it now. What is it you believe severing your strings will actually do that has not already been done?”

Hermione explained again about the Room of Requirement, and the feeling of life that was missing from the castle this summer. Sarah stared at Hermione with skepticism plain on her face. It was clearly intimidating Hermione, because she grew more and more flustered, misspeaking and going back to repeat herself over and over.

When Hermione finished her explanation, Sarah was silent for a few moments. “Your explanation is both too much and not enough. You are all woefully unprepared for this. The power in your strings will be too much for what you’ve prepared. I do not believe it is the responsible thing to teach you these hexes. Two of the couples even intend to remain together after severing, as if it had not happened!”

Her words hit Neville in the gut. It _was_ strange how they seemed to think it would have no effect on anything. They were _severing their strings_. That really should only be for people like Augusta Anisana, right? It should only be for truly unhappy people.

The rest of the afternoon went to plan until they began the practical flows of the protection spells they would need to layer for Spell Four. Hermione thought it was stupid that they could not practice with their own wands, instead forced to practice with the magic dampening wands.

“It’s obvious the mysterious Spell Four is one based almost entirely on intention, and we don’t INTEND to cut our strings until it’s time!”

Sarah’s icy stare seemed to cut Hermione’s confidence. “I will not alter my methods. You have called me to teach my expertise, and these are the conditions of that expertise.”

Hermione took a steadying breath, her mouth a tight line. “Fine.” She did the motions of the protection spells directly into the cutting motion, staring at Sarah.

With these dampening wands, it did feel like they were doing nothing but the motions. Even a caster as weak as Neville could feel when his magic was connecting with a spell, and when it was not. Without his magic connecting to the motions, it just felt like moving a stick through the air.

The rest of the afternoon was tense, and it seemed that they were nearly all on the verge of a breakdown.

As they broke for dinner, Neville took a steadying breath. “Sarah, can we take a walk?”

Maybe he could convince her to let them practice with their normal wands. Maybe he could find out what Luna had been trying to tell him with that dream.

As they exited the castle, she stopped, pulling Neville up short as well. “You’ve been looking at me very strangely. Is something wrong?”

Neville sighed. “Not exactly. You know my mate, Luna isn’t here?” She nodded. “She’s Alithini Diairesis. Well, she can give people dreams that are memories.”

Sarah’s eyebrow raised, but she inclined her head for him to continue. He explained the dream of Sarah from last night. By the end, she was frowning.

“This is why you look at me with sadness.”

Neville had no idea what to say to that, so he just nodded and shrugged.

“Do you understand who my mate was?”

He shook his head.

Her voice was almost too quiet to hear in the noise of the summer afternoon. “Arganum.” She looked truly miserable. “It was so difficult, seeing them become who they were supposed to be without me. It was whiplash every day, as they vacillated between identities. I couldn’t keep up with who they were. I’m not progressive that way. I wanted a partner who could just be someone I could recognise day in and day out. Steel, they always said, was the strongest stuff. But, I broke us with my steel. I broke us. I could not follow them where they went. I wasn’t strong that way. I felt that fraying as much as they did. I was steel, but I felt that fraying, too.” She wiped tears away from her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

Neville nodded. “I think Luna and I have also frayed this summer. I never knew what was happening, I just got angry. I’ve never been so angry as I’ve been this summer with her.”

She sighed. “Arganum simply folded into themself. You are luckier than they were in some ways. Anger is easier to mold into something else than despair is. But, fraying does not always mean soulmates should sever, Neville.”

He took a breath. “What did you make?” Her head tilted with a question. “At the end, you planned to use the string for something. What did you do with it?”

She nodded and smiled for the first time since they left the classroom. “We enchanted their living room. They wanted to keep it, and I didn’t. It was only right that they got the use of it.”

Neville pointed out some interesting plants on the grounds as they continued walking.

Eventually, Sarah huffed. “What is the point of this, Neville? What did your mate intend, giving you such a personal piece of my life?”

He sighed and plucked a few damaged leaves from a dirigible plum. “I can’t be sure what Luna’s intent was. I think she wanted me to see that some people are connected who are not compatible and that there is happiness beyond an original soul bond. I couldn’t tell you if she intended something for you.”

He turned to her, feeling more lost than normal. It all felt like it could fall apart in a moment. “You study the soul bond. Is it really so wrong to want to save the castle?”

She looked at Neville and it felt like she was looking through him. “No. It is not wrong. But, you have been lying to yourselves if you believe any of this could be easy, or that you could be happier without your original soul bonds. People who are happy simply should not be severing. And, people with unfulfilled bonds have no reason to sever. Why would you inflict that pain on yourself?”

Neville frowned. It was almost something he had been thinking before Draco and Hermione. “But, Luna says we’ll never be happy. That it’ll always be hard with us if we stay together.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You believe an untrained seer? Neville, I have met many Alithini Diairesis in my life, and the bond only strengthens and stabilises their abilities. Luna is simply afraid of her power. You must not sever if you can help it.”

He considered everything Luna had really said this summer. It did seem like she was afraid. Maybe he could still convince her to give this a try. It would be easier than being the extra one in the relationship with Draco and Hermione. Hope puffed up in his chest like he had not felt in months. Luna _was_ his soulmate, after all. Draco and Hermione would understand.

But, there was Luna herself to consider.

Neville sighed. “Luna’s been really clear, though. She doesn’t want this. She’s done a lot this summer to make sure I could be happy without her after we sever.”

Sarah smiled. “You must show her you can make her happy. At the very least, you must try, Neville. Do not let yourself be changed if you do not wish it.”

He nodded, resolved to try with Luna, while the contrary part of him tried to shout. “Yeah, yeah. I think I will try again…”

Neville’s head was swimming and he avoided everyone at dinner, eating a sandwich on the way back up to the library. He wanted to see if he could find anything useful in Thurstance and Augusta’s folio.

As he sat at the library table, a seagull flew in the window and dropped a letter on the table before squawking and flying away again.

> _To Neville Longbottom, Hogwarts’ Library, From Luna Lovegood, Pwll Lleuadau Broga (Frog Moons Pond), Cymru (Wales)_

She would try to get him to reconsider. She would try to get him to sever. She would not give him even one actual chance if he read this letter. It would change his mind, change him. Again.

Neville needed a drink. Merlin, it had been a while since he thought that, but it was definitely true. It was not a “ransack the laundry pile for the last of the transfigured firewhiskey” kind of thirst, but it was definitely there.

He left a note about his whereabouts in the triad journal (maybe for the last time?) and wandered off to the Hog’s Head.

He had shoved Luna’s letter into his pocket, but could not forget that it was there.

Neville swore to himself he would drink exactly three firewhiskies and no more. So, that was what he did. Aberforth provided no words of wisdom, just that ancient side-eye.

As he drank, he thought about what Sarah had said. He thought of Luna, how sad she seemed, how she avoided him, what she said when she was not avoiding him. He could show her he was not whoever she saw in her visions of the future.

But, why should he spend so much effort on making things work with Luna? He had two partners who loved him and said they wanted to be twined with him. It should have been enough. So, why was he letting Sarah change his mind?

She was his expert. He should believe what she said. But, it all felt really wrong. He did not want his whole life to be a struggle, to have his lifelong relationship be a struggle.

Neville felt like he was arguing both sides to himself. No one else could decide for him what to do about Luna and their string.

The letter burned in his pocket. He could not read it, not yet. He needed to decide for himself what to do.

When he was done with his third firewhiskey, he wandered back up the hill and fell into bed. He felt so alone again as he fell asleep.

The night was apparently not for sleeping for most of Gryffindor Tower’s inhabitants.

Ron was the first to wake with a shout and cries. Then, Seamus had some sort of fight in his sleep that set off Dean’s night terrors. The boys’ room was all woken by a wailing coming from the girls’ side that eventually led into the stairwell before dying down.

Wippy the house elf came to find Neville to ask him to come to the common room. Hermione and Ginny sat in a couch together, both in tears, Hermione with a giant black eye, and Ginny with scratches all over her arms, face, and neck. Neville rushed over to them, wand already starting to do the bits of healing he knew from detentions with the Carrows. “What happened?!”

Hermione was shaking, but managed to explain. “Nightmare. I was with my parents and they didn’t have faces, and then they knew magic, and were punishing me for what I did… And, I was trying to fight them off, but I didn’t have a wand…”

Ginny spoke up. “I heard her screaming and tried to wake her, but she scratched the shit out of me and took off running, straight into the bedpost.”

Hermione sobbed. “She was one of them…”

Neville did his best for the swelling of Hermione’s eye. It looked really nasty, and he wondered if she had broken her nose or something around her eye socket. Ginny’s scratches, while nasty looking, were easily disinfected and would close with some dittany from Pomfrey in the morning.

Hermione burrowed into him when he was finished with the first aid spells. He stayed, holding her and wishing he could take away her bad dreams. She clutched him, whispering I love yous to him until she began to drift off again and Ginny took them both back up to bed.

He had been back in bed for only a handful of minutes when Draco became the final person to lose his shit in his sleep that night.

It started with a piercing scream that launched the still-awake Neville from his bed, wand drawn. Draco was thrashing in his covers, somehow pulling the curtains down on himself. He was so afraid, repeating, “No, no, no, no, get away, got to get you away…”

Neville used his wand to remove the curtains and untangle the covers, but remembering Ginny’s wounds and Seamus’s punching, he hesitated to touch Draco for fear of the nightmare assaulting him, too.

No, fuck it. Draco needed to wake up. Neville was physically stronger and awake. He would be fine.

He threw his wand aside and held his boyfriend down, trying to stop the thrashing. “Draco, it’s a dream. You’ve got to wake up! Draco! Wake up!”

Draco was deep in it, though, and had begun screaming again, “No! Can’t take them! No!”

Neville raised his voice. “Draco! It’s Neville! You’re dreaming! Wake! Up!”

Finally, Draco’s eyes opened and he scrambled backward, falling off the bed. His eyes were wide as he took in the scene. “Neville…?”

Neville came carefully around the bed and knelt beside him, tears beginning to stream down Draco’s face. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m okay. Are you? Did you hit your head or anything?”

Draco touched his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He touched Neville’s arm. “It was a dream?”

Neville nodded. “You were screaming and thrashing. Do you want to get into bed with me?”

Draco looked scared to say yes. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”

Neville nodded again, helping Draco up off the floor. “That’s okay. I can draw the curtains and you can leave the light on and just read or something? We’ll have to wait until the morning to fix your bed, love.”

Draco seemed to think about this for a moment before agreeing.

Neville considered it a bit of good luck that he did not have to hear about Draco’s dream right now. It would feel more like twisting the knife of Neville’s uncertainty if it had involved Neville at all.

As Draco calmed down and did begin to doze against him again, Neville was now the one who could not sleep. Even with their nightmares, Neville did want what he already had with Hermione and Draco. It bubbled in his chest as something he wanted more than he wanted something difficult with Luna that she clearly did not want. He wanted to be the one to comfort Hermione and Draco in the night when they had bad dreams. He wanted _them_ , not Luna.

He could barely remember what he thought he would be able to have with Luna. How had he let Sarah confuse him so much? He had not even let Gran confuse him like this.

He found he was curious about what Luna had written now his mind was made up again.

> _Dear Neville,  
>  First, the nightmares in the tower tonight are not my doing. I’m not sure if you’ll actually be thinking that it was me when you finally read this, but I wouldn’t do that to my friends.   
>  Second, I’m glad you’ve decided on Hermione and Draco. I wish I could have spared you your thoughts tonight, but I couldn’t see a way to keep her from saying those things, or to keep you from believing them for a few hours.   
>  This is what I wish I could have told you before tonight. These are the two best futures we could have had together if we never severed.   
>  We have a cottage in Hogsmeade since you teach at Hogwarts. We have one child, a girl, who is happy because we love her. We bicker and love each other, but I can see everything that happens and that will happen, and can never hold it back. You are miserable because the future is assured. For you, I am like an addiction to Felix Felicis. I am miserable because the future is whatever I want it to be, forever, and nothing is ever interesting or unexpected. Our string never frays, at the cost of who we are now.   
>  We travel the world, you discover plants and I discover creatures. We have too many children. Life is chaos, and our family thrives on it, the unpredictability of each new day. We each find ourselves wanting more chaos, more partners, more and more, until we have woven a tapestry of knots across the world with our messy lives. We fight constantly, always about choice, always about what other futures we could have found, always about how we love each other and cannot bear to be apart, but also cannot bear to be together. We fray and repair our string constantly, the pain present constantly.   
>  Neville, to me it is a gift that you will sever us from these futures we could have. It is the best gift you could ever give me.   
>  Your expert is wrong. I am not simply afraid of our potential futures. I am afraid of what those futures would make us into. I am afraid of losing the friendship we can have without the burden of our connection.   
>  This is the future I can see for us without our string to connect us.   
>  Next year, you will twine with Hermione and Draco on an uneventful afternoon in the spring. You will see them seeing you for who you are. In six years, I will twine with the woman I will marry several years after that. We will be friends for the rest of our lives. I will be your second child’s godparent. You will be my first child’s godparent. You will be happy with your spouses. I will be happy with my wife. We will sometimes think of what our futures would have been if we had not severed, and always be happy we did. We will love each other as friends, uncomplicated by the connection we severed.   
>  See you soon.   
>  Love,   
>  Luna_

Neville’s face was wet from his tears as he read the letter three times before putting it away.

The last bit, their future of friendship, it sounded perfect. He held Draco close and slipped into sleep, content.

Neville left Draco in bed in the morning, going to breakfast to find it sparsely attended. He needed to plan for how today would go. Sarah was an odd sort of poison. He did not want her to infect the rest of the group.

Hermione and Ginny appeared after being patched up by Madam Pomfrey. Hermione sat beside Neville and put her head on his shoulder for a moment. “Thank you for last night. It was grounding to be with you.” She smiled up at him. “I love you.”

Neville felt Seen, not for the first time, but more like he felt Seen by Draco. He credited that one line in Luna’s letter. “I love you, too, Hermione.” He kissed her briefly.

Ginny groaned. “No snogging at breakfast!”

Draco appeared near the end of breakfast with Harry and Ron. If the tail end of their conversation was to be believed, Ron and Draco had apparently finally found something to bond over.

Ron was looking seriously at Draco. “Yeah, I mean, mine are just trying to do anything to help her, just to do anything at all.” He glanced at Hermione. “Sorry, ‘Mione…”

Hermione huffed and frowned. “God, how many of you are still having nightmares about that day? About me specifically?!”

Harry and Ron each raised a hand and nodded sheepishly. Draco raised two hands with a frown and a shrug. “I know Mother also has nightmares about Hermione.”

She let out a groan of frustration. “We are going to talk that fucking day into dust, then. Not before the Room work, but we’re just going to get it all fucking OUT. Draco, can your Healer Simons help with that?”

Draco nodded. “I’ll ask.”

Hermione nodded. “Good. I can’t keep being the girl you all tried and failed to help. And, I can’t keep feeling terrified of thinking about it, either…”

As everyone got settled into breakfast, Neville put his arm around Hermione and she looked up at him and smiled, seeing him again. He kissed her forehead and held her there for a moment. His voice was a whisper for only her to hear. “I love you, Hermione.”

She smiled and blushed ever so slightly, clearly reveling in what they had. Her voice was equally low, only for him. “I love you, too, Neville.”

The day went according to Sarah’s plan. Sarah continued with the correct wand work using the magic-dampening cores. Ginny and Hermione kept looking at each other oddly as they made the little flicks of spells Two and Three. At one point, Ginny swept her hair off her neck into a ponytail with a sort of flourish and the two women giggled so hard, they drew the stares of everyone else.

Hermione regained her composure quickly. “So sorry, just, these are so similar to the spell Ginny uses to cut my hair, just with a little extra,” she made the check-mark motion from the end of the flick for both spells, “and, it just makes a lot of sense, as they’re all for cutting strands of something…”

Sarah’s head cocked to the side. “You cut each other’s hair?”

Ginny nodded. “Well, it’s not really Hermione doing mine. I just do a bit of fringe and hack it off when it gets too whippy for flying. But, I gave Hermione that haircut after her years of giant bushy hair.”

Hermione slapped her lightly in the arm. “Bushy?! It was so much better the past year!”

The men’s eyes all went wide and avoided Hermione’s. She huffed. “It was so much better! So much better than it had been!”

Draco pulled her into a side hug as she huffed again. “Well, love, take comfort in the knowledge that none of us can know the truth of the past year except Potter, and he’s been threatened with castration if he ever speaks ill of your hair again.”

She let out a groan of frustration and huffed against him again before pushing him away as he chuckled.

Neville was amused, but took pity on her. “You know we all like your hair now, though. Even Harry, with his empty compliments.”

It was Harry’s turn to throw a fit of huffs as Hermione smiled at Neville with a chuckle.

Sarah had them move on to pronunciations of the spells as they sat on their hands. This was apparently the best way to prevent them from wandlessly doing the motions and accidentally severing while practicing.

Unfortunately half of them found it nearly impossible to pay attention in any useful way while sitting on their hands. Ginny looked like she was practicing Quidditch flight patterns in her head as she stared at the blackboard. Hermione had begun bouncing her leg in a way Neville remembered from times she was not allowed to answer a question in class. Of course, this series of memories distracted him entirely from focusing on Spell Four’s pronunciation at all, and Neville had no idea how long his mind had wandered when his attention was snapped back to Sarah.

“What is wrong with all of you this morning?” Sarah’s brow was furrowed. “ _Tabernak_ , these are the spells you need for your insane project. I would think you would make an effort!”

Everyone froze with embarrassment except Harry. “Well, everyone here was up last night with nightmares from the war, so, yeah, we’re all a little distracted, SARAH…”

Her cheeks tinged pink with anger. “How the fuck are you going to do this if you cannot learn the spells?!” She threw her hands up in the air. “These spells are dangerous, and you are children! Younger even than my undergraduates!”

As she continued to rant about the danger and their incompetence, Neville looked around the room. Hermione looked like she might cry. Draco’s ‘I’m paying attention to an arsehole’ mask was firmly in place. Ginny’s face was getting red, and Neville was not sure if she was about to cry or scream. Harry’s eyebrow was raised the way it did before he said something defiant.

It seemed like the perfect time to fix the situation. They had learned the wandwork and pronunciation for all three spells. It was just a matter of putting them together.

Neville smiled as neutrally as he could. “Sarah, could I speak to you for a moment in the hall?”

Her anger seemed to deflate and she followed him out of the classroom.

He cast Silencio at the door and down the hall where a couple of younger Ravenclaws were working on the moulding of one of the arches. He looked at her in the eye and summoned a tone Augusta Longbottom would have been proud of. “Thank you for coming. Your services are no longer required. We will succeed or fail with the information you’ve already imparted.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You said you agreed with me last night. Did your partners get to you again? Is that why everyone is against me this morning?”

He calmly shook his head. “No. I simply realised that what I already have is what I really want. We’re not against you, but you seem to be against us, and that won’t work at all.”

“You do not even want me to stay for the remainder of the day? It is not yet lunch time.” Her eyebrow was raised with annoyance.

“No, I think it would be best if you left now. You’ll still be compensated for the full time you set aside, and of course, you can have your portkey changed within the hour. I’ll show you to the floo when you’ve gathered your things.”

Her mouth was set in a line and her face was turning pink with anger again. “So, my expertise means nothing now? You’ve gotten what you need and I’m just to be cast aside because I’m saying things you do not want to hear? This is what is wrong with your project. You cannot hear the truth if it is not what you already believed.”

Neville shook his head. “No. You can’t seem to hear the truth when we say it to you. You don’t seem to want to hear that we are all aware of the dangers and complications of severing our soul bonds. You don’t seem to want to hear that we’re capable of doing this, and that your expertise would help us do it. I’m not sending you away for any reason other than your unwillingness to listen to what we need and work with us.”

She scowled. “I will need to collect my things.”

He shook his head again. “I’ll do that. My friends don’t need you to say anything else to them, and I can’t really trust you to keep your opinions to yourself.”

Her face now resembled that of Harry’s aunt. “Get on with it, then.”

Neville slipped back into the classroom. Four faces turned with the same question evident on their faces. “I’m sacking her.”

The four faces showed four different emotions.

Hermione burst from her seat and crashed into him. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

He explained himself quickly as he gathered Sarah’s ridiculous teaching aids into her bag.

Harry clapped him on the shoulder as Neville finished with an Accio for anything he had missed. “I don’t think I could have done it, Nev. Thanks, mate…”

Hermione nodded. “It’s what we needed. We’ll put everything together ourselves, and it’ll be better than keeping her the rest of the day.”

Neville nodded and found Sarah in the hall again. They returned to her room so she could gather the rest of her things, then made their way up to the Headmistress’s office.

He was glad that Professor McGonagall was not in her office at that moment.

Sarah Moulin stuck out her hand to shake Neville’s. “I wish I had been able to help you. I do hope you succeed with your project.”

Neville shook her hand and nodded. She performed the ritual to floo away and disappeared into the flames.

It felt terrible, but also liberating somehow.

When Professor McGonagall returned a moment later, she drew the entire story out of him before she let him leave. It involved more of that hibiscus tea, of course. When he had finished the story of the past twenty-four hours, she sat back in her chair and opened a desk drawer, pulling out a package that looked muggle with a small smile.

“Neville, would you like a chocolate biscuit?”


	20. Calamus, Sandalwood, Sage, Goldenrod, Verbena, Rue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Room of Requirement project comes to fruition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely thought it would take a month to complete the rewrites on this chapter. I was wrong.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading along week by week as I published. Thank you to everyone who has ever commented. Thank you to my partner who beta-ed for me and supported me constantly through every freak out about motivation (especially since the pandemic began).

August 10-21, 1998

The entire group along with Flitwick and Vector spent most of the rest of Thursday and Friday perfecting what they could of the severing spells. After Sarah Moulin’s departure, Hermione and Draco had spent an hour or so explaining the spells to the professors as they took complex notes, Flitwick graphing the overlapping effectiveness of the layered protection spells with the severing and Vector writing them out as arithmantic equations. When the group gathered again, they found it was much easier to learn the spells with the help of their professors than it had been with Sarah.

Harry and Arganum spent the weekend with Hermione and Professor Vector making absolutely sure that every measurement of the room would work correctly with the runes, incantation, and spells that had been finalised.

Arganum had warned them that the biggest challenge for them would likely be boredom, and they advised having something non-magical to occupy themselves as they incanted. Hermione sent Ginny off to buy a case of blank paper and pencils, since she reasoned that they could do a lot with paper to keep themselves from getting too bored.

On Saturday morning, Draco went to visit his expert, Martin MacEntee, the ancient poet, and spent the rest of the day with the old man, then spent the rest of the weekend at Black House and with Andromeda, writing the incantation and brewing potions. They brewed something like a potion that would be the ink used to inscribe the runes. It was a special enchanting ink that would pull the magic from the incantations and help to adhere it to the Room as they completed each stage. Ginny hugged Draco tightly when he handed her the ink pot, much to Draco’s surprise.

Draco also returned from the weekend with ten vials of a potion Andromeda and George developed together for Neville. It was based on Dreamless Sleep, but should only give the effects of a normal night’s sleep, not the feeling of death Neville associated with Dreamless Sleep. Draco had the recipe so he could brew it for Neville if it worked how they wanted. Neville had clutched Draco tight when he explained Neville deserved the option of whatever could help him sleep through the night, and that this was just one thing he could try.

Draco’s own completed piece of the project was a beautiful binding incantation he based on St Patrick’s Breastplate. It was _long_. As they each read through it, they could feel that it was more than a poem, it was truly an incantation that would produce power with repetition.

Sunday afternoon, Ginny had finally gotten to see her expert, Otso Orrava, a quite attractive Finnish wizard. He came to view the room and they mapped out together where each set of runes would go. She had gotten quite a lot of help from Constantine Filmore’s writings on the prior Room. There was a wealth of information in that bizarre folio. Somehow Constantine found a way to communicate with the Room itself, just as Kingsley had teased in his letter. It held some of the runes Constantine found when the Room occasionally allowed him to see its ‘raw’ form. Hermione and Professor Vector joined Ginny and Otso at the end of the evening until Otso needed to return home to his husband and four-month-old baby. Ginny and Hermione made temporary marks to show where each individual set of runes would need to be placed, and the Room began to look like a construction zone again.

Arganum had done what they considered their best work by the end of the weekend, and treated everyone to further bottles of wine from what must be their personal collection on Sunday night. Neville felt it was only right that Arganum also know about his dream. Arganum was simply astounded at everything included in Neville’s narrative of Sarah’s visit.

They swirled their wine glass and sighed as he finished. “This is not how I remember it, Neville. I don’t deny that we sat at a table by a canal, but I was not unsure of my life in the way she might have believed. I knew who I was, and I knew she strained against who I was. I don’t believe I ever considered that the pain I felt was our string fraying, but now you tell me all of it, I’m sure that’s what it was.” They sipped from their glass. “And, you say your bondmate sent you this dream?”

Neville sighed and nodded. “Yes. She’s Alithini Diairesis. She’s sent dreams to a few of us, I just didn’t think she could send a memory dream of someone she’s never met.”

Arganum’s face quirked into a smile that played more in their eyes than their mouth. “Oh, your Luna wrote to me, and I’m sure she also wrote to Sarah. Odd sort of letter. I’m not surprised she’s Alithini Diairesis, now you say it.”

Neville felt like he should apologise for whatever Luna said. “I’m sorry if she said anything upsetting…”

They shook their head. “ No, no. I have nothing to hide from myself or anyone else. I’ve known Alithini Diairesis before.” They leaned in slightly. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you unfulfilled, your bond?”

Neville nodded. “Yes, it’s unfulfilled. I’d have liked that before Draco and Hermione, but now I only want them. It didn’t really hurt that Luna’s been a nightmare this summer.” He looked down the table where Draco and Hermione were laughing with Harry. “Yeah, the unfulfilled bond with Luna feels less important now.”

Arganum’s eyes followed Neville’s down the table. “This is the way of it when you find your heart’s mates.” Their eyes softened further as they looked at Neville. “If I remained unhappily with Sarah, I could not have found my Juliana and Carla. They may not have been my original bond, but I have always been meant for them, in my heart.”

Neville was extremely curious about Arganum’s relationships, probably spurred on by the plentiful wine. “How did you get together? Were they originally soulmates? Did you all twine together?”

Arganum nodded. “We met when I designed Carla’s offices in Bologna. That had been a kind of audition for me to design a complex of offices for Juliana’s company. They were already married, but from the beginning of our acquaintance, they were all I could think of. And, apparently the feeling was mutual. It was only a matter of time before they frayed to twine with me.” They looked a little sad. “Neville, I must tell you that the twining is not the important part of a relationship. And although a fulfilled bond is a wonderful thing, it is not the thing that will make the relationship happy. I had many years without a bond and I was as happy without it as I am with it. The strings, they show us only one kind of compatibility, and that is magical compatibility. Sometimes that leads us to our best life mate, but sometimes it leads us elsewhere, and we must choose what to do with that bond.”

He thought of Luna’s visions of their potential futures. In both, their compatibility made them miserable. He knew he would be happier in his life with Hermione and Draco. But, he still found himself wondering about the original bond versus the retwined bond. “Is it different? Relationships with the original bond and without it?”

They frowned. “Of course. Sarah and I were deeply unhappy. I have had many relationships without any sort of soul bond, and two with a retwined bond, and each relationship is different. Even my relationships with Juliana and Carla are different. No relationship is any better than any other relationship, Neville, they just ARE.” They put their hand on Neville’s and looked into his eyes. “You have every chance of happiness with your new loves. As your Luna has the sight, you might consider that she gave you a gift by putting you together with your new loves before she loses much of her ability from the severing.”

Neville frowned. “Wait, what?”

Their head cocked to the side. “For those with the sight, severing the unfulfilled bond removes most of their ability. Did you not learn this in your Divination classes?”

He tried to remember anything from Divination, but it was all a wash of broken teacups, thick incense, and Hermione fighting with Professor Trelawney. “I don’t remember this. Our Divination teacher is not terribly effective if you’re not a girl…”

Arganum chuckled. “I understand. There’s very little to it, though. Had you truly no idea about her abilities diminishing?”

Neville thought back to the conversations he had with Luna this summer. There had been something about how fulfilling their bond would grow her abilities, but they had not talked at all about this. He supposed it made sense. “No, we never did, but I think I’d better talk to her about it now…”

On Monday morning, long before breakfast, Professor McGonagall and Hermione portkeyed to Johannesburg to discuss the entire project with Amahle Mbatha, one of McGonagall’s old colleagues who specialised in architectural enchantments. It had been the Headmistress’s final condition to allow them to begin the magical part of the process.

At breakfast, Neville found Luna in the Great Hall and sat down next to her. “Morning, Luna. How was Frog Moons Pond?”

She turned to him and smiled sweetly. “Good Morning, Neville. It was lovely to spend time with Papa. You want to talk about our bond again.”

He began arranging his breakfast. “Yes, I do. Were you going to tell me you’ll lose your abilities when we sever?”

She wiped her mouth with a serviette. “No. That’s not why I did any of this. I won’t really need my ability after this.”

He sighed. “How are you feeling about losing it, though? Don’t you want to keep the sight?”

She frowned uncharacteristically and seemed to stare off at the floor a few feet away. “I think I’m going to be much happier without it. Since the Battle, it’s been so much harder to feel like I know who I am, since all the choices have increased. I can see so many things happening, and every time a choice is made, it pulls me off on a path where I can suddenly see all the other choices that will result from that choice.” She looked at Neville and he could suddenly see the exhaustion in her eyes. “I’m sorry that this is painful and a shock to you. I wasn’t sure it would happen until Hermione and Ginny and I went up to the seventh floor. But, Hermione’s choices were so sure, and I saw a new way for us to both be happy in all the branches.”

Neville put down his fork and put his hand on her arm. “Why couldn’t you have told me some of this upfront? Any of it, this or the stuff from your letter. I’ve been so angry at you this summer, Luna. I didn’t know why you were doing or saying any of this, and it was so unlike how we’ve been friends before.”

She smiled at him again. “I do know how you would have reacted if I had told you about this. You would have believed me, but you wouldn’t have been able to find your way to both of them. You could be happy without them, but in all your futures, you’re happiest with them.”

“Why did you have to make me sort of hate you, though?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t see any way where you wouldn’t feel awful. I know everyone hates how I’ve been, but I didn’t have much choice myself this summer. I’m sorry.”

Neville gave her a side hug on the bench. “Will you be alright after we sever, Luna?”

She nodded. “I won’t see every path, but I’ll see the important choices, and it won’t be overwhelming like it is now.”

He went back to his eggs as Ron walked into the Great Hall. “You still with Ron?”

She smiled. “For now. We’ll both make choices that take us away from each other, but he knows it now.”

Ron’s face lit up as he saw Luna and he practically ran over to her, kissing her soundly before he sat on her other side. “Are you alright? How was your dad?”

She went on at length about the moon frogs in the pond near her house and Ron hung on her every word.

Just after breakfast, Hermione and Professor McGonagall returned and the six members of the restoration group plus the Headmistress met in the room to review the plan.

For as long as it took, at least three of the bond mates would need to recite the binding incantations to power the runes before they were drawn. Otso had indicated that the runes should glow as they were written if the incantation had sufficiently powered them. They would simply have to chant until the runes could be written. This was the part that would take the longest, maybe as long as two weeks for the full cycle of the incantation. And, the restoration group were the only ones who could do the incantation since the runes needed to be attuned to the magic of those whose soul potential would be attached to the room.

Hermione and Neville asked Flitwick and McGonagall to help them all review the severing spells again. Over the weekend, Neville found in Augusta Anisana’s writing that all severing spells were like the Unforgivables, entirely desire-driven. So, all of Sarah’s intensity about never speaking the names of the spells and forcing them to practice with the magic-dampening wands was pointless since their intention was not to sever until the Room was actually prepared. It made practicing the spells much easier and more intuitive.

Draco and Harry’s jobs being basically complete except for the actual incantations, they spent the morning brewing Throat Soothing, Wideye, Wit-Sharpening, and Nourishment Potions. According to some texts from the Black House library, these were the best options for chanting incantations for long periods since these ones did not affect the magic, only the stamina and mental fortitude.

Hermione drew up a rotation for how they would cover the incantations. The key inscriptions of the runes would need to be chanted by the entire group together. They would know when those were coming, as they were essentially like the keystone of an arch. They truly did not know how long it would take, but they would need to be able to drop everything else when it was time for the key runes. None of the group could leave the castle until it was complete, and for upwards of twelve hours a day every day, they would be chanting Draco’s incantation.

Finally, at exactly noon, the six soulmates began chanting the incantation of intention.

_We bind ourselves to this purpose,  
In peace to see the castle with life again.  
We invoke the potential  
In this place to be held.  
  
We bind ourselves to a greater purpose  
In love for what has been given  
We invoke the infinite  
In this place to be felt.  
  
We bind ourselves to a purpose,  
In life itself and its construction.  
We invoke the mystery  
In this place to be touched._

Slowly the magic began to coalesce in the room over several hours until Ginny wrote the first inscription in a circle in the center of the room using the magic ink Draco and Andromeda made. She used a special stamp to write the runes in cuneiform and the script glowed a bright green as she completed it, just as they expected.

In Sumerian, the runes read “Entrusted to hold the radiant bonds.”

The energy in the room changed as the glow faded. They were united with this purpose, and the Room itself seemed to awaken subtly with the inscription.

**August 10, 4pm-10pm**

_I loose the flow of powers today  
To send what’s unseen out from me.  
By strand and string betwixt us each  
By what is seen and not believed  
By that unseen but surely known  
By what is loved and what is found  
By what is lost and so denied  
I send the magic out today._

Neville had been chanting for about five hours when he became aware that he was feeling the thoughts of Ginny and Luna.

_‘Could just do a dive to get around it. Not enough dives at this level.’ A swooping sensation and the image of two Slytherins on brooms colliding in midair as seen from below._

_A meadow filled with flowers with a pond in the middle. Several ducks sat in the pond creating gentle ripples as they occasionally dipped their bills into the water to drink. Some tiny lights reflected in the water. ‘It’s so hard to see them in daylight, and they never seem to come out at night.’ A feeling of sadness at the mystery to be solved._

Could they hear his thoughts, too? Was this from the incantation?

He was feeling tired from so much chanting today. This was just one mystery he did not have the energy to consider right now. He found the chanting to be far more difficult than he expected it to be. He could feel the magic being pulled from him as he recited the words.

_‘Is Ginny hearing us as well, do you think?’_

Oh, how fun. Luna could hear his thoughts.

_‘Not sure. It’s all Quidditch plays from her direction.’_

_‘How about fuck you, it’s all I can do to keep my thoughts to myself? I’d just like to be as boring as possible so no one goes digging.’_

Neville arched an eyebrow as he looked at Ginny with her eyes closed. She held up both middle fingers to them.

_‘Don’t you think that physical sentiment might do something to the incantation energy, Gin?’_

She put her fingers away into clenched fists.

_‘Let’s all just try to leave each other alone if we can?’_

_The feeling of a shrug. ‘There’s nothing I haven’t gotten from you all before.’_

_Annoyance. ‘Yeah, well, about that, Luna. Massively not a fan of you knowing things you weren’t around for, so, uh, eff off.’_

It was immensely hard for Neville to chant for a moment through his laughter. _‘Eff off? Afraid to even think a swear now?’_

_‘I’m going to ask Hermione about this when I can. Not being able to swear feels, ugh, like a too-tight sweater or something.’_

**August 11, 4am-10am**

Hearing the thoughts of the others as they chanted was both fun and a nightmare. It always took a few hours of chanting to attune to the thoughts of the others who were also chanting, but wore off nearly immediately when you stopped.

Neville was getting off his second shift that had started with Draco and Hermione eye fucking each other as he slowly attuned to them and began to see flashes of each of them in strangely beautiful but painfully impossible positions. The love that flowed between them felt incredibly intense. When the three had fully attuned to each other, there was a sort of manic energy that flowed into Neville, and he became certain of his place with each of them individually and with them together.

He was the filter. He was the control. He was the earth.

And, his partners could see it. They could see him.

As physical sex and orgasm would ruin the magic of the incantation, they would have to wait, but they did cling to each other, putting the feeling of their bond into the incantation and feeling the power grow from their connection.

Hermione’s shift ended and she was replaced by a yawning Harry at six. _‘Don’t you dare do mind sex with Harry here…’_

Draco’s eyebrows danced for a moment. _‘But, what if he’s into it, love?’_

Neville barked half a laugh around his chanting. _‘I’ll keep him mentally clothed. Don’t worry, Hermione.’_

Harry gave both of them a look of exhaustion. He had only gotten a short nap between shifts and was only supposed to be on for a two hour block before he could go have an actual sleep.

_‘I’m sure he won’t be able to attune to us in his state, Nev… We could think interesting thoughts at each other until he goes, at least, don’t you think?’ Lips around Neville’s cock, swallowing, tongue licking._

_Clothing on, inaccessible fun parts. ‘No, Slytherin.’_

_Disappointment and disgust within Draco. ‘I don’t think I want to be called that anymore….’_

Neville concentrated very hard almost the entire two hour block to keep Draco’s thoughts away from sex. At one point, Draco sent an especially forceful image and Harry stuttered on the incantation and shot a look of shock at Draco and Neville.

_‘Stop now or I won’t do anything interesting when our shift is over.’_

_Penitence and desire._

Neville smiled.

Luna’s shift began when Harry’s short one ended. And, within half an hour she had attuned to Draco and Neville. She seemed more coherent than she had been all summer, and Neville could prevent the thought from going out to her.

_‘Well, she’s probably been like this inside the whole time, right, Luna?’_

_Exhaustion and headaches. ‘It’s really quite hard to only say exactly what needs to be said and no more. Thank you for understanding, Draco.’ Affection._

Neville kept needing to keep Draco from sending him lewd thoughts. Luna obviously did not mind, as she sent back a few of them together that Neville could swear were from his actual memories. Was everyone so horny during their shifts?

_‘No, Ginny isn’t horny in here at all. It’s really quite odd.’_

_‘Yeah, and when it was Hermione and me in here with Harry, he didn’t seem horny then.’ Cheeky._

_‘How are you two so good at holding back your thoughts?’_

_‘Well, I’ve been having to do it all year, since I knew Draco’s father would be using Leglimency on me to see if I knew where Harry was, and since then it’s been useful for staying focused on what’s actually in front of me instead of the branches of choices.’_

_‘I mean, I’m so good at Occlumency, I went into a coma about it.’_

Finally, Neville and Draco’s shift ended when Hermione and Ginny came in to relieve them. Hermione’s smile and wink as they left the room told Neville she was still thinking of her last shift.

As soon as they slipped through the door into the hall, Neville was thrown against the wall as Draco’s body crashed into his, lips fiercely pressed against each other. The kiss deepened with Draco’s body pushing against Neville’s, trapping him against the wall as his breath was stolen entirely. Draco held him in place, peppering kisses down his throat as Neville rasped out, “Bed?”

Draco moaned and stopped, but only long enough to pull Neville into a jog to the Fat Lady’s portrait and then up the stairs to their room where he locked the door behind them. Neville rounded on him, pushing Draco against the door and holding him there as he ghosted his mouth over his boyfriend’s, his knee between Draco’s, pressing his burgeoning erection into Draco’s.

“Such filthy thoughts from such a beautiful man. You just couldn’t help yourself, Draco? You’re SO good at Occlumency, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from teasing me?”

Draco struggled slightly, trying to push forward into him, to kiss him again, but Neville held him fast by the shoulders and leaned back. “Please, Neville, I want you. Please…” There was a tinge of whinge in his voice.

“What do you want, love? I can’t hear your thoughts anymore, or see how you want me.” Neville felt powerful, wanted, in control. It was a heady mix that fueled his erection to its fullest, straining against his trousers.

Draco let out a sort of whimpering moan. “Kiss me, Neville, please. I just need to taste you.”

Neville caught his mouth then, opening to let their tongues tangle, swallowing the deep moan that bubbled from Draco’s core. They moved to the bed, Draco fumbling with Neville’s belt and buttons. When Neville’s legs hit the bed, he sat down, pulling Draco down with him, then pushing him to kneel between Neville’s legs. Draco pulled Neville’s trousers and pants off and kissed down his chest, pulling Neville’s shirt up to trail kisses down his soft belly until he reached the spot he wanted.

“Draco, do you remember the first time? On the couch? Do that again, then I want you to fuck me…”

Draco nodded excitedly and divested himself of his shirt. He teased Neville through the blow job, working Neville’s arse open with his fingers as he leisurely licked and sucked his cock red and slick.

Neville rather shocked himself with what came tumbling from his mouth in the throes of pleasure. “This is what you really wanted to taste, Draco. Because this is where you love to be, on your knees sucking my cock, giving me, nnnngg, the best head you can give. You just want to give me what I want, isn’t that right, Draco? You want to give us both all the pleasure we can stand, me and Hermione, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll always give you that. I’ll always tell you how to please me. I’ll always take the control when you don’t want it anymore.”

Draco was nearly crying as he bobbed up and down on Neville’s cock, and Neville pulled him up to kiss him. He could feel Draco’s tears spill onto his own cheeks as they kissed. Draco pulled back with a smile and a sob. “Where did this come from all of a sudden? I want this, but how did you know? That I want you in control like this?”

Neville rested his forehead against Draco’s. “It was one of the first things I felt from you and Hermione when we attuned today. You both see me that way, and I could see it so clearly. And, I wanted that. I want that for you, to let you release that control you’ve got to hold on to all the time.”

Draco nodded, still teary but smiling from ear to ear. “Yes, fuck, that sounds perfect.”

Neville kissed him again, pulling Draco up onto the bed now and nonverbally casting the spell to slither his trousers and pants off. They spent several more minutes snogging and grinding together before Neville applied a super slick lubrication charm to his arsehole and Draco aligned his cock, nudging gently.

Inch by inch, Draco thrust gently in and Neville breathed deeply and forced himself to relax. It felt so strange to be the one fucked, but also incredible that he could feel Draco in this new way, deep inside himself. Finally, Draco’s pelvis hit Neville’s arse and they both rested there for a moment, Neville getting used to the feeling of Draco so deep, and Draco marvelling at the beauty of his boyfriend.

After what felt like an hour but was only about half a minute, Neville wanted more. “I’m ready, but go slowly.”

Draco pulled out an inch and thrust back in slowly, arching an eyebrow over his now-dry eyes. “Like this?”

Neville chuckled, making Draco’s eyes roll back with the clenching of Neville’s arse. “No, more than that, you beautiful blond prat.”

Draco set a beautifully leisurely pace, pulling out and thrusting back in slowly until Neville was nearly whimpering with the need to feel more. “More. Now.” Neville grabbed Draco’s hand and put it on his cock, grasping their hands together.

The blond man thrust faster and harder, giving exactly what he was told. Neville could see the concentration in his grey eyes as he measured his strokes. “Draco, fuck me as hard and as fast as you want, but you can’t come until I come.”

Draco let out a long moan of excited frustration, but nodded quickly and increased his pace, closing his eyes and letting his head roll back. From the stuttering pace of his thrusts, Neville could tell Draco was already close, and it was clearly taking all of his concentration to keep going on Neville’s cock as he thrust. As Neville approached his point of no return, he needed to see the look in Draco’s eyes. “Look at me. Open your eyes now.”

Grey eyes filled with desire and a little pain met Neville’s. Neville growled his orgasm out. “Mine, Draco. You’re mine…”

As the spurts of his own come hit Neville’s chest, Draco’s eyes changed to glassy pleasure and he came with a cry, collapsing slightly over Neville as his body wracked with the jolts of his own climax.

A few quick cleansing spells and they curled up together, Draco’s head on Neville’s chest. They both fell asleep quickly, finding they were really quite tired.

**August 11, 8pm - August 12, 4pm**

Mid-afternoon that day, after Luna’s next shift ended, she alerted Hermione that this first long incantation seemed close to its full power and that the runes would be ready around eleven if they all incanted together starting at eight. She joined Neville in a nap and they cuddled together under cooling charms with the heat of the afternoon into the evening. Neville woke a little and found himself gently kissing her neck since it was just right there. Hermione shivered slightly each time his lips met her skin and leaned further into his body.

When they woke to eat dinner before incanting, Hermione did that incredible stretch against him, like a cat in the middle of a nap, her whole body tensing against his to relax again. She flipped over and smiled sheepishly. She caressed his cheek and sighed. “I love you, Neville.”

His fingers carded gently through her hair, pushing it behind her ears. “I love you, Hermione.”

It was _right_.

At eight, the group gathered all together in the Room. Hermione handed out potions to the three who had already been in the room for at least four hours already. Neville could feel the power that had been building up over the past day and a half. It was nearly a physical force. It blocked out everything else, including the psychic attunement from before.

There was nothing now except the incantation. Over and over, they sent the magic out from their cores. The Room seemed to pulse with their collective heartbeat, deeper and deeper, pulling them into a trance.

Neville saw Ginny’s inscription of the runes from a place outside himself. It confused him that he was not Ginny as he watched her. He could see everyone and himself, or _was he_ everyone and himself?

The Elder Futhark runes stated that this was a secret place, a place of transformation, and a place of change.

As the inscription glowed with its purpose on the floor and ceiling, they all simply stopped. Draco handed out the next verse and they began anew.

_I bind with power from the soul  
For love with strings invisible.  
The strings that bound us now shall go  
To bind the great impossible.  
With every chance and change we strengthen  
The possibility in these walls.  
All strength will keep the possible  
Of magic for eternity._

This verse had none of the effects of attuning them to the others’ thoughts. Neville incanted for the first few hours with Harry and Hermione, then Hermione and Draco for the next two, then Draco and Ginny for the last two. They all had trouble staying alert and incanting through the night with no ability to talk to each other.

**August 12, 10am-4pm**

The second verse seemed to be building its power more quickly than the first. Neville thought it was going faster because it was so boring to do nothing in their heads for so many hours at a time, the magic came out of them more quickly.

The way that Neville’s mind wandered as he incanted was not even very interesting to him. He thought about Poirot some, and the things that had happened this summer, and his Moondew, and what he wanted to do with his future now that he seemed definitely to have one, and Hermione and Draco, and Narcissa, and Hermione’s parents who he had never met and might never meet now.

He came back to the incantation as a balled up piece of paper hit his head, thrown by Harry. Harry had a look that said, “What the fuck, mate?”

Neville assumed he had either fallen asleep or just stopped incanting. This was the worst.

**August 13, midnight-noon**

As Neville went onto a short shift, there was a note by the door.

> _The next inscription will be ready around 4:00am. Then, the first portion of the next inscription must be done immediately. We’ll all begin at 2:00am and probably won’t finish until 6:00am. ~Hermione_

Oh, this would fuck his schedule terribly! He had slept only fitfully between his last shift and this one, and now he would be on until noon!

He looked at the schedule briefly to see if he could swap a two hour block with anyone, but there was just nothing to be done without redoing quite a lot of it. This whole thing sucked. A moment of doubt snuck into his mind. Why were they doing this? All of them giving so much again? They did not have to do it.

Neville took one each of the Wideye and Wit-Sharpening potions and felt much better. He must have just been cranky from no sleep.

The final few hours of incanting this verse were more difficult even than the prior six hour shift had been. The room felt more and more oppressive again, with almost a fog seeming to coalesce.

And again, as Ginny inscribed the phrase across each wall, Neville felt that he was outside himself, but not alone, looking at Ginny writing the inscriptions, but also as Ginny writing the inscriptions. Hermione had thought this sensation was just part of the first verse, but now that could not be it.

The inscriptions glowed an orange and suddenly they all knew to stop.

Again in Sumerian, the inscription read “Strengthen the holding of the possibility of the unseen binding strings.”

The initial inscription of verse three only took an hour to manifest. It was a very different experience from verse two. It had a lightness to it that they had not felt even with verse one.

_We bind this room to birth anew  
The joy of all we know to be  
The sight of clouds across the sky  
The feel of calm, its energy  
When all that needs to be renewed  
The beauty grows in minds so free  
The mind can tell what needs must be  
And Room shall live and gateway be._

It was fun to incant this verse? They quickly came up with a game they could play with paper balls thrown through the hoops of their arms in different positions.

Less than two hours of incanting the new verse and Ginny wrote the new runes on each of the walls and ceiling. They could all feel that this would be the longest incantation, but they also all did not seem to mind that. The initial inscription of the runes glowed dully all the time and seemed to be an additional force in the room as they incanted.

They did not seem to attune to each other this time in that psychic way from verse one, but as Neville’s time incanting went into eight, nine, ten hours straight, he almost felt that there was a sort of creativity he was touching in each of the others. Draco’s eyes sparkled and he occasionally wrote a word or phrase on a piece of parchment. Luna’s eyes went blank and she stared straight ahead for much of their shared time.

Neville himself considered how different types of growing conditions would be advantageous to different plants at their many stages of growth. He thought of his Moondews cozy in their planter in the greenhouse, and the ferns that reached for his magic. He felt like he was on the cusp of some breakthrough about how to better cultivate these communal plants.

Finally, he was off. He took a moment in the hall outside the Room to write down as many of his thoughts as he could before the creative energy wore off. Luna had also emerged and seemed to be waiting for him to finish writing, leaning heavily on the wall.

“What’s up, Luna?” He noticed the dead look in her eyes then. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

She glanced up at him. “I can’t control it with this verse.”

Neville frowned. “Your sight, you mean?”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

He sighed. “What do you need, Luna?” He scanned the schedule for her next shift, and it was only in four hours. He swapped out the beginning and ending of his next shift with hers. That gave her six hours off instead of only four, so that would definitely help her recover a bit. Luna just leaned against the wall with her eyes closed. “I adjusted the schedule for you. You’ll be on again at six. Do you need Ron?”

Luna nodded, eyes still closed.

“Do you need a hug until Ron gets here?”

She nodded again.

Neville summoned his Patronus, thinking of the moment he felt Draco and Hermione’s love for him in the Room. The bulldog appeared, wagging its tail expectantly at him while panting with one of those doggy smiles. Was this his pet dog, or a part of him that _was_ a dog? “Tell Ron to meet us by the Room of Requirement. Luna needs him.”

The bulldog took off running. It was a good dog, even if it was a part of him. Should he get a dog?

Neville pulled Luna into a hug as the dog bounded off. She was not crying, but she was trembling almost imperceptibly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “It’s just so many possibilities, too many possibilities.”

A few minutes later, Ron came running and skidded around the corner. “What happened!? What’s wrong?!”

Neville and Luna released each other and Luna reached for Ron, finally beginning to cry. Neville sighed and as Ron pulled Luna into his arms. Ron whispered something to Luna, stroking her hair then looking to Neville with the question in his eyes of ‘what happened?’

Neville frowned. “This one opens your mind a bit, I think. Luna obviously doesn’t need that.”

Luna clutched Ron as if her life depended on it. Neville had never seen Luna so out of sorts, and by the look on Ron’s face, it was a first for him, too. Ron looked how Gran looked when she was about to ask to see a manager. “Can’t Hermione do something about it?”

Neville’s eyes squinted and his head tilted in confusion. “What would she do about it? Everyone has to do the incanting equally so the energy from the bonds can attach to the room correctly.”

Ron’s face went into a blank stare of concentration as he tried to parse Neville’s words. Eventually, he shook his head. “So, she can’t take a break?”

Neville sighed. “I did switch with her a little so she doesn’t have to be back until six instead of four.”

Ron made a grunt of annoyance before he went back to concertedly smoothing Luna’s hair. “Do you want to go have a nap, Lulu?”

Luna took a few breaths and swallowed before looking up at Ron and nodding. Ron smiled gently and kissed her forehead before resting their heads together for a moment. Luna turned to Neville and smiled a thank you before Ron led her away. Neville watched them walk down the hall with Ron’s arm around her shoulders and her arm clutching him around the waist. They still made very little sense as a couple to Neville, but he could not help thinking that was part of what made them work this summer.

Neville scanned the schedule for any other way to help Luna with this verse of the incantation. It was really improbable that they could do anything else for her right now. Hermione would need to just move the shifts around as soon as she had a chance.

His stomach grumbled so loudly he startled. When had he last eaten an actual meal? Yesterday morning? The extremely boring verse made him long for sleep more than food.

At least it was lunch time right now. For the first time, Neville noticed that the Great Hall held only a handful of professors and Madam Pomfrey. He knew that Seamus and Dean had gone to visit their parents for the rest of the month. Most of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students had gotten bored of the random cleaning and gone away. Several professors had gone to spend time with their families before school began again. Neville knew Professor Sprout was leaving in the morning to see her sister in North Carolina and had a list of duties for Neville to accomplish in whatever off hours he had for the next two weeks.

Waves of exhaustion flowed over him as he finished his lunch. He took a few apples from the table for later.

Harry was asleep in what had been Dean’s bed, curtains open, sprawled on his back snoring with his hand near his wand on the bedside table. Neville tripped slightly over his laundry bin and Harry stirred slightly, shuddering in his sleep and grabbing his wand for a moment before releasing it, all while fully asleep.

Fuck, this summer was dark.

Neville climbed into bed and drew his curtains, drinking a third of the Restful Sleep potion from Andromeda. He felt the effects within a minute and fell into what still felt a bit like death, but a more benevolent death than with the Dreamless Sleep.

**August 13, 4pm-10pm**

Neville was profoundly not recovered from his twelve hour shift that morning, but he did manage to wake and run over to the Room in time for his next shift.

The first block was weirdly full of sexual tension with Hermione. Neville found himself fantasizing about her and trying to remember when they would next be free at the same time. He could not tell exactly what she was thinking, but the way she held her mouth, the glint in her eyes, and the tilt of her body toward his made him think she was also running through interesting scenarios in her head.

Harry was aggressively ignoring the tension between them, throwing a paper ball up and catching it in increasingly complicated ways.

In the second block, Luna replaced Hermione, who took a note Luna handed her with a confused look on her face before reading it and giving Luna a nod and a brief hug.

Harry, Luna, and Neville all took up a game of making paper airplanes sail through the hoops of their arms without the use of magic. It seemed to take up part of Luna’s attention, which Neville considered a win. Then, Luna began to beat them both so soundly that they all gradually changed the rules of the game to make it a sort of challenge to see how well Luna could do. Harry and Neville would stand at either corner of a wall and point at an angle along the wall, and Luna would try to hit the point that intersected where they were pointing. Harry and Neville would each keep an eye on how close she was along their axis and show how far she was off by holding their hands or fingers apart.

It turned out that Luna was a crack shot with every projectile they could collectively fashion from paper.

Hermione relieved Luna in the third block, despite the fact that Luna should have been there for a six hour shift. Neville assumed that the schedule was totally different now that Hermione had been able to update it.

Ginny, Hermione, and Neville spent a fairly sweaty two hours playing the paper projectile game, challenging each other to get better and better. Ginny was the best at the pointing version, probably as good as Luna had been. Hermione was best at moving hoops, and Neville was best at stationary hoops. Hermione was giving him the same looks from her last block and Neville was excited that they might be off together next block.

The incanting did not feel like it was doing anything yet. Through gestures, Ginny and Hermione expressed what he thought meant that this would be the longest verse. Maybe it would not feel like anything until the end?

Finally, Neville’s shift ended. He and Hermione were replaced by Draco and Luna. On entering the Room, Ginny immediately threw a tightly packed paper ball at Draco’s head to begin a new aspect of the game that Neville was weirdly excited to learn on his next shift.

Hermione dragged Neville into the hall and pushed him up against the wall, immediately kissing him very deeply. It took him by surprise, but he quickly recovered and pushed her across the hallway to the alcove behind the freshly restored tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy.

He cast a nonverbal muffliato and practically tore Hermione’s shorts off her. She moaned loudly into his ear as she clutched his neck, kissing and nipping down to his pulse point. “I want you so badly, Neville…” It had come out a breathy whinge, tired from the incanting.

Neville’s erection twitched in his jeans. “Oh?” One hand cupped her mound, fingers teasing against her slit as his other hand reached up her back to unhook her bra. “What do you want so badly, my love?”

She ground her hips down with a swirl, making a few of his fingers slip between her folds. She whispered with hot breath into his ear. “I want whatever you want to give me. I want to come how and when you say…”

He ground his hips into her with a slight moan. “So, you want to give up control?” He nipped her earlobe between his teeth and she whimpered and nodded. He could feel his own whisper hot in her ear. “I like when you give that to me.” His fingers began their exploration of her folds, encouraged by the rocking of her hips. “Hips still, love.” She stilled and he let two fingers slip inside her, the way slick with her pooled desire. He could feel that it was taking some effort for her to stay still. “Isn’t that nice? How you get what you really want when you do what I say?”

She nodded, whimpering as he curled his fingers slightly, just teasing that spot inside her. With his other hand, he pulled up her shirt and bra and immediately caught a nipple in his fingers. As he worked the nipple to a stiff point, her hips bucked twice. He kissed her breathless again as he worked on her other nipple. He could feel her clenching tighter and tighter on the fingers inside her and he began the harder thrusting to hit that spot over and over.

Her breath went ragged as she tried to gulp breaths between kisses, a guttural groan swallowed by the demands of his tongue. She pulled away, finally, a wild look in her eyes. “Please… Neville… Please…”

He looked in her eyes and shook his head, continuing to thrust his fingers inside her. “No. You’ll wait.” He withdrew his fingers and gently pushed her to her knees, undoing his fly and pulling his erect member from his pants. She looked up at him and sucked the head into her mouth. He let his fingers stroke through her hair as she sucked him, bobbing her head further and further down his length. As he hit her throat, he moaned. “Hermione…”

A few moments of her mouth on his cock and he neared his own loss of control. He pulled her back to standing and kissed her again, enjoying the taste of himself on her tongue. He muttered the contraceptive charm and turned her to face the wall, pulling her hips to an angle before lining them up and pushing inside her. His hands glided up to tease her nipples again as he nipped and sucked a line down her neck and shoulder. She was clearly already close again and the clenching of her pussy tight on his cock propelled them both forward. “Neville, please! Please, let me come! Please!”

He continued thrusting as he bit out a “No” but let his hands roam down to their places on her clit and pelvis, clit gliding between his fingers and hand on her pelvis. The clenching grew to a sporadic fluttering as his thrusting stuttered.

“I love you, Hermione… I’m going to spend my life giving you what you need… Come now!”

His hand pressed and his fingers felt the way she throbbed as she came with a stuttering cry around his cock. It threw him over the edge to feel her contracting around him and he came with his own cry, collapsing against her as he held her against him.

When they had both recovered sufficiently, they kissed again languidly before cleaning up and putting themselves back together. Hermione yawned and stretched as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

Neville reached for her hand and she took his, smiling up at him, seeing him. “Nap time, I take it, my love?”

She nodded and bumped his shoulder. “After that, I should say so.”

“You weren’t even on the schedule for that block, though. You could have slept through the whole thing.”

Hermione sighed and nodded. “Yes. I’ve rearranged a few things so Luna is only going to be on for one block at a time. It’ll be difficult in a different way, but it really only worked if she’s on one, off one for most of the next two days.” She frowned. “I wish we’d considered that some of the incantations would have strange side effects for some of us. It’s really hard to rearrange the schedule to accommodate someone being negatively affected like this.”

They entered the portrait hole to find Ron reading in the common room. He smiled when he saw them. “Hi, Neville, ‘Mione.”

“Ronald, are you alright?” Hermione sounded confused and concerned.

His head cocked to the side. “Yeah? Why?”

She pointed at his book. “You’re reading, alone, voluntarily!”

He got a strange sort of private smile. “Yeah, well, I thought I’d better get a handle on Luna’s seer thing. It’s what you’d do if you were dating a seer.”

Hermione startled slightly and her gaze softened. “You really like her.”

Ron blushed and looked away. “I mean, yeah. I guess I do.”

She looked a bit teary and her voice wavered as she said, “I’m, I’m so happy for you, Ron.”

Ron’s eyes snapped back up to her face. “Thanks, Hermione. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy, too. Even if Malfoy is the biggest tosser in Britain.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed and she hit him lightly in the head. “That’s my boyfriend, git.”

Neville laughed. “Time for you to take a little nap, love. You’re back on in less than two hours.”

She huffed. “Yes, alright…” She turned and left the room.

Neville sat down across from Ron and tipped the book forward to read the title: _Secrets of the Seers_ by Alicia Bunting. “You’re serious about Luna, then?”

Ron chewed his lip. “I don’t know exactly. I do really like her. Maybe we’re falling in love? Luna said we’re not going to be together forever, but I don’t know what that means. Everyone seems to get together right out of Hogwarts, and I think I always thought it would be me and Hermione, but obviously that’s out, now. And, I guess Lavender was my soulmate, but,” he shuddered and frowned, “yeah, that’s obviously, you know… I can’t see my string anymore, so it must be I haven’t met whoever else I’m supposed to be with.” He sighed. “I’m just trying to see if something could happen with me and Luna. Maybe after you all cut your strings, Luna will want me, permanent-like?”

Neville’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah, maybe? It’s impossible to say with her. She’s an epic mystery.”

Ron sighed and frowned again. “Can I tell you something mad?” Neville gestured for him to go ahead. “This book, I’m reading it to understand Luna? But, reading it is kind of reminding me of myself? Like, I say a lot of shite to get a laugh when Harry’s all serious about things, but then those things seem to actually happen? Or, when we were in Divination, when we had to actually predict things, I predicted a lot of stuff that actually happened, like Harry got rich, and now he’s going to work for the Ministry, and someone who was close to him betrayed him, and that was me TWICE, Neville!” He looked truly confused and scared.

“So, the book is making you think that stuff means you’re a seer?”

Ron nodded emphatically and flipped back through the pages, then read aloud. “Like this, see… ‘The first glimpses of that which is unknown may not be apparent at first, and may indeed seem only as a strong feeling to the mind of the untrained seer. The events that are felt strongly will come to pass as predicted, only understood fully to have been a prediction long after the events come to pass.’ It’s me!”

Neville frowned and sighed, too. “I mean, maybe, yeah? I do remember you saying you thought Harry could win the Tournament, but you also believe in him harder than anything else in the world, so it didn’t seem like you were predicting that exactly.”

Ron’s eyes went wide. “Merlin’s pants, I forgot about that.”

Neville let out a long yawn. “Sorry, Ron, I’ve got to go to bed. You should wait up for Luna. She might need you again after incanting.”

Ron nodded absently, staring at the book again. “Yeah, I’m trying to stay on her schedule until your next section thingie. Night, Nev.”

Neville fell asleep more soundly than he had done in several days and woke rested, several hours before his next shift. Hermione was standing beside his bed with a worried look on her face.

“Neville, your grandmother is here again. She’s in McGonagall’s office.”

He could barely register the words. “Gran is here? Why?”

Hermione huffed. “I don’t know. I tried to explain that you were sleeping between doing a very important project, but she seemed unimpressed. She said, ‘it’s six A.M. and he should be able to rise to speak to his family.’”

He sat up in bed and reached for his least-wrinkled trousers. “You talked to her? Why? What happened? Start at the beginning?”

Hermione had gotten off her overnight shift and went down to find some breakfast. She found Mrs Longbottom in the Entry Hall trying to summon a house elf with no success. She tried to scare Hermione into getting Neville, but it obviously had not worked. After what sounded like a redacted version of Hermione’s conversation with her, Hermione took her to McGonagall’s office to deal with whatever was going on that was so urgent. The Headmistress asked Hermione to come rouse Neville and see if he wanted to speak to his grandmother.

“So, I’m here to find out if you want to speak to her.” Hermione chewed her lip.

What on earth could she be here for so early? Had something happened to Neville’s parents? He sighed. “I’d better see what she wants. McGonagall shouldn’t have to deal with whatever this is.”

He finished dressing and Hermione did some charms to make him look more like an awake person. On their way to the office, Neville asked about the incantation, whether it seemed like the magic was building yet. Still nothing. But! Hermione excitedly told him all about the new “hit them through the hoop” rules of the projectile game.

She kissed him gently before he went up to the office and she finally went down to breakfast. She looked him in the eyes. “Neville, you’re as strong as she is. Please don’t forget that. She can’t hold anything over you now. I love you.” She smiled.

Neville smiled back, truly seen by his amazing girlfriend. “I know. Thank you. I love you, too.”

In Professor McGonagall’s office, there was a very strong tea that Neville found pleasantly bracing. Gran and Professor McGonagall tensely made small talk until Gran could not contain herself anymore.”

“Neville, I’ve thought long and hard about what you said to me on your birthday.”

His heart beat faster, positively thunking inside his chest. Best to listen now. He was rested. He felt totally in control of his responses. “Yes?”

She huffed. “And, this morning, that Hermione Granger did a valiant job of defending you.” Neville had no idea what that meant and assumed it must have something to do with what Hermione redacted from the story. “She says she loves you.” She glanced briefly at Professor McGonagall watching them from behind her teacup.

He had _no idea_ where this was going with any of this. “Yes. She does love me. And, I love her back. Why are you here, Gran?”

She frowned with pursed lips. “Are you still with the Malfoy boy?”

He was still so incredibly confused. “Yes. He loves me and I love him back. Why. Are. You. Here. Gran.”

She nodded, maintaining her frown. “Your picture was in the Prophet. Several times. Your parents saw you with them. You know their condition, so you will know that it is significant when anything new happens. Your father has shown me those pictures every day for several weeks now. He points and smiles, and yesterday he said something to me for the first time in more than ten years. He said, ‘Neville,’ and ‘Happy’. And, your mother has the pictures spellotaped to the wall beside her bed. She stares at them, for hours apparently, and she seems to speak to them. Sometimes she laughs like there was a joke when she looks at the one of you and him.” She swallowed thickly and looked him in the eye. Neville thought he must be seeing her on the verge of tears, but as he had not seen such emotion from her in his lifetime, he could not be sure. “Your parents seem happy at your happiness. And, I may have spoken too quickly on your birthday.”

Neville sighed, watching her face as it went through several phases of being uncomfortable. The story about his parents seeing his pictures was really lovely, and he had the urge to see them when the Room was complete. However, her admission that she had said the wrong things on his birthday was not an apology, despite her belief that it was.

His voice was softer now. “Gran, why are you here?”

Her voice trembled. “I’ve missed you, Neville. We’ve both spoken in anger the last two times we’ve seen each other, and I cannot lose another child where the last words we spoke were in anger.”

His eyes went wide and his teacup clattered to the floor. He was out of his seat and on his knees before her, pulling her into his arms before he knew what he was doing. She clutched his oxford briefly before pulling away. “No, I don’t want this to be because I guilted you into it.”

Neville pulled back and sat on his haunches. She pulled a handkerchief from her purse to dab her eyes. McGonagall had vanished along with the tea, leaving them some privacy and fewer things to break. “How do you want this to be, then, Gran?”

She ushered him back to his seat. “I want to apologise to you for what I said about your, uh, about your boyfriend.” She took a breath and looked at him again. “Our lives have not been easy, and while you responded to that by becoming kind and learning forgiveness, I responded by being even more rigid and feeding the hate that caused it all in the first place. And, as soon as that hate was threatened by your ability to forgive, I put a wall between us, fueled by that hate. I was wrong. I should not have judged him.”

From prior experience, Neville knew she thought she had apologised now. “I’m glad you’ve realised all of that. I agree you were wrong and you shouldn’t have judged him.”

Her jaw clenched. “Don’t you have anything else to say?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. You said you want to apologise, but you haven’t yet.”

She frowned and stared at him for a moment. “Yes, well, I am sorry. For what I said at the house, and what I said on your birthday. I may never be able to forget what his aunt did but so long as you are with him, I will maintain my civility.”

Neville let out a little huff. “You’re still talking about Draco like he’s like the other Death Eaters. He’s not like them and he never was. That’s what has to change, Gran. You can’t think of him like he had a choice in what he did and what was done to him. He was a victim of his upbringing, forced into the service of a madman.”

Her face was twisted with concentration. “I don’t know that I can reconcile that with everything that his family has done, Neville.”

Neville felt his jaw clench slightly. “That’s too bad, Gran. Maybe you could actually get to know Draco himself, and then you won’t have such a hard time separating them in your head.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Was that sufficient apology?”

Oh Gran, what a question.

Neville’s eyebrow twitched. “If I say no, will you find more things to give a genuine apology for?”

An angry huff came from his grandmother. “I don’t have anything else specifically planned, so you would have to tell me what to apologise for, Neville.” Her mouth was a hard line.

He let out a brief chuckle. “No, it’s fine. I’d have to think about it, and right now I just really want breakfast. So long as you’ll work on how you feel about Draco, I’m all out of apology topics.” He stood. “Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

They made their way down to the Great Hall and Gran commented on the lack of activity in the castle.

“Oh, yeah, well, Professor McGonagall sent away everyone who isn’t connected to the Room of Requirement project.”

Gran looked confused. “What in Merlin’s massive beard does that mean?”

Fuck. He had not told Gran anything at all about the project, and now he was in the middle of it all. He checked the time. There was a little over an hour until his next shift started. “Uh, it’s a bit complicated, but we’re restoring the Room of Requirement.” Still the confused look from Gran. “There’s a room on the seventh floor across from Barnabus the Barmy that was destroyed in the Battle. It’s where I stayed while I was in hiding before the Battle, and it’s just this room that could make any kind of room someone needed.”

She nodded. “It’s how we got into the castle through the Hog’s Head.”

Neville nodded. “Yeah. So, we’re restoring it. We’re trying to make it so it’s another Room of Requirement. Hermione and Kingsley, uh, I mean, Minister Shacklebolt, think the Room is sort of the heart of the castle that feeds the magic of the rest of the castle.”

They arrived at the Great Hall and sat at the table with Hermione, who froze in the middle of buttering her baguette. Gran’s face was full of concern now. “It sounds very complicated, Neville. How are you doing it? What could harness the magic to power an entire castle?”

Hermione’s eyes shot to Neville’s. Neville nodded. Hermione took a breath and began to explain, allowing no interruption as she spoke. “Well, Mrs Longbottom, we’re all using the potential in our soul strings. We’re in the middle of the project now, and it’s going extremely well. We’ve each taken a specialty, including one of the soulmates who is an Alithini Diairesis and tells us when something is going wrong or in a dangerous direction. If everything goes as planned, we’ll be able to apply the enchantment by the twentieth of this month.”

Augusta Longbottom had gone completely white. “Neville? Does this mean you’re severing your soul bond? Did you have a fulfilled bond? Did you find your soulmate?”

Neville shook his head. “It’s fine, Gran. We’ve learned how to take the precautions so we don’t get hurt.”

She reached out and grasped his hand. “But, your soulmate, it’s the one thing fate gives each of us.”

He sighed. “No, Gran. I know who is on the other end of my string, and they’re not who I should be with. It’s not fate, or if it is, it’s led me to someone who I need to part from, and what better to do than sever that bond for a purpose?” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve considered this very carefully, as have all six of us in the project together. None of us are taking this lightly, Gran. I’ve done everything I can with the string I have, and this is the next right thing.”

She tried to smile then, blinking back tears. “Your father used to say that. I’m glad it’s how you’re living your life, too.” She turned her attention to Hermione then. “Miss Granger, I wanted to tell you that Neville’s mother and father enjoyed seeing the pictures of you all. His mother specifically seems to be entranced by your outfit.”

Hermione had stupidly taken a bite of her baguette and had to finish chewing and swallow before she could answer. “Which pictures?”

Neville finished a sip of coffee. “Oh, those ones from Harry’s party. You know, the ones we specially planned to show our relationship?”

Hermione let out a half-chuckle of remembering. “Oh, your parents have them? That’s wonderful!” She smiled at Mrs Longbottom. “Thank you for telling me! I loved that outfit, and it was surprisingly comfortable.”

Mrs Longbottom snorted. “If you say so, Miss Granger. I don’t know many witches who could pull off a look like that.”

Hermione waved her hand slightly. “Please, call me Hermione. Miss Granger makes me feel like you’re a teacher or something.”

Mrs Longbottom nodded. “Alright, Hermione. Then, you must call me Augusta or Gran. Since you’re, uh, involved with my grandson.”

Neville snorted as he realised how Hermione’s words reminded him of another’s. He bumped her arm. “Do you realise you said that like Narcissa?”

Hermione’s mouth went into an O. “Oh my god, you’re right…” She laughed. “Oh, we’ll have to tell Draco. He’ll think it’s funny, too!”

Neville turned to Gran. “Narcissa has this very specific way of requesting how people address her.”

The two together said in their best imitations, “Please, call me Narcissa.”

Gran was confused and unhappy at this revelation but said nothing and ate a bowl of oatmeal as she watched her grandson with his girlfriend.

**August 14, 8am-2pm**

At ten minutes to eight, Neville kissed his grandmother on the cheek and left her with Hermione to attend his shift of the incantation.

Draco seemed almost dead on his feet after already being on this shift for ten hours straight, and had to take some potions to stay alert enough to continue incanting for his final two hours of the day.

The game had taken on more of a chaotic energy with Harry and Draco taking out much of their lingering aggression by just lobbing larger and larger paper balls at each others’ heads. Neville simply sat back and watched, making sure they all kept incanting.

In the next block, Draco was finally relieved. Ginny and Luna went one-on-one to see who could do better at accuracy in the wall pointing version of the game. In the end, Luna beat Ginny by about two inches total.

In Neville’s third and final block of the shift, Hermione replaced Luna and they began a new addition to the game that involved throwing the projectile to another player through the hoop of the third player’s arms.

**August 14, 4pm-10pm**

Between his shifts, Neville took care of Professor Sprout’s chore list. It was mostly checking the aggressive plants, watering everything on the Friday list, and checking that all the plants were behaving themselves. He also checked on the Moondews, which had already clumped their root bulbs together, possibly the first step in making some bulbets.

At four, Neville and Harry replaced Luna and Ginny. Harry and Neville got better at curving paper airplanes through a hoop at another person. This unfortunately included Neville accidentally hitting Hermione in the eye with an airplane near the end of her shift.

Luna replaced Hermione in the next block and they all experimented with the delivery of a paper ball on an airplane. Again, Luna was best at this. It was rather fascinating to watch her experimentations as she created little troughs for the ball in the design of the airplanes. Neville thought she seemed lighter again, like she was feeling better and could more easily tap into the good parts of the incantation.

Then, in Neville’s final block, Draco and Ginny returned for what seemed to be round two of Pelt-Each-Other-With-Paper-A-Thon 1998. The game changed again when Neville began to block their throws.

He was a sweaty, exhausted mess when he emerged from the Room at ten, so he took a shower and went straight to bed, taking a full Relaxing Sleep. He drifted off to sleep to the sounds of Harry snoring in his curtains.

**August 15, 6am-8pm**

If Neville had known he was going to be incanting for fourteen hours straight, he would have eaten more at breakfast.

Draco was curled up against his back when Neville came to consciousness as his wand alarm went off at five. Draco was snoring lightly against his neck, warm and soft. Neville wished this could be his day instead of what might be a long one.

Luna’s schedule had been swapped with his for part of the day, and depending on when this verse was complete, there were several blocks that could be either on or off for Neville.

He reveled in the feel of Draco against him before Draco’s alarm also went off and the blond man rolled over to turn it off. Neville sat up and looked down at Draco stretching and blinking with the vague confusion of waking. “Morning, boyfriend. When did you crawl into my bed?”

Draco struggled to keep his eyes open. “Mm, got out of the paper zone at two. Ginny is mean. I had to use some salve on my eye. She figured out how to make the pointy end hurt very badly.”

Neville laughed. “You two are something else. Breakfast? When’s the last time you ate an actual meal?”

Draco rolled into an upright position and promptly fell off the bed with a yelp. He shook his head quickly and seemed more awake now. “Oh, uh, I ate dinner last night. Hermione made me eat a salad for some fucking reason.”

“Hmm, sounds like she likes you.”

Draco’s head snapped up with wide eyes. “Hermione? Likes me? Do you mean, likes me likes me?” He held a hand to his mouth. “Do you think she’d let me court her if I asked?”

Neville snorted and held up his hands in a ‘wait’ gesture. “Whoa, whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself, mate. Maybe find out what her favorite color is or something before you ask for her time and attention.”

Draco’s brow furrowed slightly then. “Actually, I don’t think I know her favorite color. Do you know it?”

Neville considered the colors she wore most often, and the colors she chose for her belongings. “Pink, maybe? Or like, a light red? Maybe light purple like from the Yule Ball? I’m not actually sure, either.”

Draco frowned. “That is the sort of thing one should know about one’s partners.” He pulled a dark gray t-shirt over his head. “What’s yours, then?”

Neville had not thought about this in some time and had to consider whether sky blue was still the answer. No, it was not. “Uh, green, probably? I know it’s pretty predictable for someone interested in Herbology, but it does make me happy to be around it.” He pulled his own t-shirt over his head. Why could he not find any jeans? There were only uniform trousers left in his trunk right now.

Draco chuckled. “Hmm, how very Slytherin of you, boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “What about you? Are you very Slytherin that way?”

Draco smiled, tying his worn oxfords. “No, I like purple or dark blue, actually. Only royal colors for me. Or, maybe I’m a Ravenclaw at heart?”

Neville snickered. “Sure. Makes sense. Just surround yourself with the finest of everything from the thirteenth century and you’d be happy as a hippogriff.”

“That’s the general idea, yes.”

They held hands as they walked down to the Great Hall, hoping that something was put out already. They were somewhat in luck. The house elves had put out coffee, tea, and a variety of interesting pastries and breads. Neville attacked a stack of donuts as Draco consumed half a baguette à la Hermione.

At six, they relieved Hermione and Luna with Luna looking on the verge of tears again as she had done two blocks together, attuning to the magic of the verse again. Neville wished he could do something more for her than just taking her shifts.

Harry, Draco, and Neville simply threw a large paper ball between them for the first block. The joy of the game had gone with Luna’s obvious difficulties.

As he attuned to the magic of the verse, Neville himself began to feel oddly. There was a sort of tingling at the back of his head. He signaled to Draco and Harry about it. Harry shrugged and shook his head, and Draco shrugged and nodded. Draco gestured maybe it was getting to the end of the verse, or at least that was what Neville thought he meant.

It made sense. They knew it should be done sometime today or early tomorrow. Neville had simply not been the first one to notice the end approaching with the previous verses.

When Harry was replaced by Luna’s return, she looked largely recovered. She smiled at Neville and Draco, taking up Harry’s position in throwing the ball between them. She added the challenge of bouncing the ball off the wall for the next person to catch. As she was attuning, she got a faraway look in her eyes and Draco initiated the idea that the non-thrower-non-catcher should point to a spot on the wall to try to hit. That helped Luna for another hour or so, but as Hermione came in to replace Draco, Luna ran out of the room before Draco could leave.

When she returned ten minutes later, Luna seemed better again. Draco gave her a questioning gesture and she smiled and nodded to him, resuming the incantation so he could leave.

Hermione and Luna spent the better part of the next block trying to make a plane that could bounce off the wall and remain airborne. Again, Neville was fascinated by the process, spending most of his time just watching them as he repeated the verse over and over.

He also spent most of that block noticing the way that the tingling sensation at the back of his head spread down his back and out along his arms. It almost felt like the sensation of going to the barber, but spreading out to his whole body.

As Luna’s second block ended and she was replaced by Ginny, Hermione took a moment to go out into the hall and amend the schedule again, leaving a note on the door about the final group incantation for the current verse.

Ginny became the tester for Hermione’s bouncing planes during that block. Neville watched them test and craft and test and craft over and over as his entire body grew tingly. It was the most blissful feeling he had experienced outside physical intimacy with another person. As he slipped further and further into this blissful fugue, Hermione and Ginny had to keep tapping him in the arm to keep him awake. He took to doing laps around the room, staving off the drowsiness that came with the tingly feeling.

Before Hermione left, she made him leave the Room for ten minutes to clear his head. It helped immensely, just as a break had helped Luna between her blocks. The tingly feeling left him nearly as soon as he left the room and he was able to take a couple of potions to get him through what would be the next six hours or so, according to Hermione’s sign on the door.

With Luna and Ginny, any specific innovation to the game more or less disintegrated. Neville paced the room to stay awake as his body began to tingle again. Luna seemed to just be folding papers over and over again, creating a sort of chain of origami birds, and Ginny was attempting to perfect an airplane that would stay circling in the air as long as possible.

Neville considered the ways to crossbreed plants to create hybrid species. The stinging wheat from Scilly was a sort of hybrid that had naturally occurred. What could he do with the Moondews? Or, if not those specific Moondew, what about their offspring? The Moondew could not live forever, but he could probably do something to propagate the bulb scales. Maybe it would need chipping and he could introduce a second species that way? But, how to crossbreed with a bulbed cultivar? Plant two bulbets with the same chip?

He lost track of everything but the ideas in his head and suddenly Draco was there. When had that happened? Ginny was still here, but Luna was gone.

Neville drew out some plans the best he could with the incantation. It seemed to be Draco’s turn to just watch everyone else. He spent the entire block watching Neville draw while occasionally throwing a paper ball at Ginny when she stopped moving.

Finally, all six gathered to incant to the end of the verse. Again, the magic seemed to coalesce around them physically. They could all feel the tingling. Just as Luna’s head fell back and a sparkling tear fell down her cheek, the runes glowed a bright yellow and dimmed.

The new silence was almost deafening. Everyone felt vaguely that they had gone deaf, but it was only that the verse had finally ended.

Draco pushed Neville out into the hall before he could start the new verse.

“You did enough today, love.” Draco kissed him briefly and returned inside.

Hermione and Ginny slipped out just after Draco slipped in. Ginny clapped her hands together. “Who wants a sandwich? I’ll go ask the elves and meet you back at the common room?”

Neville’s stomach rumbled the answer for him.

**August 16, 2am-8am**

_Pull of fate and pull of choices  
Push of need and push of wanting  
Keep it here and take it with us  
Feel the halt and feel the movement  
Pull forever, pull the moment  
Push the new lives, push the old ones  
Keep the magic, take us elsewhere  
Feel the endless, feel the ending_

The fourth verse felt like it was trying to pull Neville apart down the center of him. There was a sort of nervous energy that felt like it could be resolved if he could find a way to slice himself straight down the middle.

It was not even an uncomfortable feeling, exactly, just _there_ all the time once he had attuned.

Hermione and Harry also seemed to be having this feeling. They both kept standing to walk around the room, stretching in exaggerated ways as Neville felt the urge to do.

Draco and Luna seemed to not have the same problems as the rest of them with this verse. By the end of his shift, though, Neville felt like he would be extremely happy to simply become two halves, down the middle as the sensation had become actually quite uncomfortable at the end of six hours.

When he was free, being replaced by Ginny, he rushed into the hall and felt an immediate relief wash over him. At least he did not have another shift until tonight. This verse would be much shorter than the last. Maybe he would only have to incant on this verse at the very end?

He shuddered. This verse was simply insidious.

**August 16, 6pm-midnight**

Neville felt immensely fortunate as he went into the Room for his evening shift that night. The worst verse so far was nearly complete and it was only a matter of hours before Ginny wrote its inscription!

The first hour of the full group incanting went fairly well. Half the group seemed disturbed by the sensations as they attuned to the magic, but the other half seemed fine. In the second hour, Neville began to see flashes of himself outside his body again.

Oh, good! It was close to being over!

But, the incantation went on, and Neville continued to see only sporadic flashes of himself from outside his body. He began to think he could see a separate Neville outside himself, staring at him. He looked around and saw that Harry and Hermione also seemed upset. Maybe it was not just him?

Finally, the magic coalesced as they expected. As Ginny stepped forward to inscribe the runes in their places on the support pillars, Luna also stepped forward and reached Hermione to catch her before she hit the floor. Neville stepped forward to help but found his legs trying to do two different things, and he fell to the floor as well. He could not force his legs to work together and ended up flopping around on the floor for a few seconds until he was flipped onto his back by Draco looking incredibly worried.

The incantation continued, now entirely out of habit, but Neville felt very strange. Sticky somehow. And tired? He could see himself on the floor, Draco crouched over him, pulling up his wet shirt. Why was his chest red?

Oh, it’s blood. Weird.

It felt so much better now he was going to be split. No more sweet Neville who liked everyone and was just happy to be included versus the Neville who needed to be in control of what happened around him. No more Neville who cared for the things that grew from the earth clashing with the Neville who could command an army and kill the most symbolic snake in the world. Now those parts could finally exist separately. Maybe one would die and he would never again feel the push and pull of how to be a person. Maybe one would be straight and the other gay. Impossible to know until he just finished separating them.

Draco was shouting the incantation now, and seemed to be trying to interfere with what was happening to Neville’s body.

Fuck you, wanker! It’s time to be one thing or the other!

He could still see his body from above, but glancing over, he could also see that Hermione and Harry were also on the floor. Hermione’s separation seemed to have started on her back as Luna had pulled up her shirt to reveal a pool of blood in the channel of her spine. Harry was laying on his front and the blood looked like it was pooling below him. Shame, really. He’d made it through Old Tom Riddle, and now he was going to actually be two people. Wonder which one would have the scar?

Then there was a split second of silence before literally everyone in the room was screaming. Neville had never felt such pain in his life. It was worse than getting pummelled by Crabbe and Goyle, worse than cruciatus, worse than seeing Harry dead in the courtyard. He felt himself picked up and deposited in the hallway. Then, he was in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey was there. “Pulso.”

Neville sat straight up in his hospital bed. “Hermione! Harry!”

A clattering sounded from the cubicle across the way. Hermione’s voice was slightly muffled. “Neville?”

He got out of bed and followed the sound of her voice. She looked like hell- so incredibly pale. He gathered her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and clutched him. “Are you alright? Harry’s still asleep. What the fuck was that?”

Neville shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to research it when this is done. What time is it?”

Madam Pomfrey appeared through the curtain. “About half past one in the morning. I expect you’ll be wanting to be released so you can send the others to bed? According to that schedule on the wall, Miss Lovegood has been in there for more than half a day straight.”

Hermione nodded. “Can we go back? Do you know what happened?”

Pomfrey sighed. “I don’t know what happened. There was something strange about that incantation. I’ve never seen any wound like it before. Almost as if your bodies tried to tear themselves in half. Miss Granger, you’re very lucky it ended when it did, as you have no damage to your spinal column, although another few minutes and you may not have been so lucky. You’ll feel a bit of tenderness for the next few days as many of the muscles that let you twist your body had to be repaired. And, Mr Longbottom, you cracked your sternum, but it’s been repaired now. If you both use your scar cream, you shouldn’t even have scars from it.”

From the cubicle next to Hermione’s, a clattering sounded. “Fuck! Where are my glasses?”

Pomfrey slid the curtains back to reveal Harry Potter, glasses on the table next to him. She reached over and handed them to him. “And, Mr Potter had only a deep gash to contend with. Not even a broken bone or torn muscle. Lucky for once.”

Harry scoffed. “I’ve been lucky before…”

The healer shrugged. “As soon as you all take another two Blood Replenishments, and a Wideye and Pain Potion each, you may go back to that strange incantation.”

**August 17, 2am-10am**

_We bind unto this place with purpose  
The strong unseen and possible  
By incantations powered thus  
The infinite now caused to be.  
And whosoever needs to use it  
Unending place for what lies hidden  
Shall open door and find what’s needed  
This room shall be for all that need it._

Draco hugged Neville and Hermione so tightly around their necks that Neville was concerned he might pass out. Hermione kissed him all over his face, even as he chanted the new words. Over Draco’s shoulder, Neville could see that Ginny was doing something similar with Harry.

Their boyfriend was so glad to see them that he left for only a few minutes, coming back with a note that stated, “I’ve taken a sleep potion, but I cannot be apart after all of that. Wake me when it’s time for my shift.”

Draco curled up on the floor with his head in Hermione’s lap. Slowly, his body drained of tension and he slept.

Neville could not blame him for wanting to stay. He thought back on what happened. It was fucking terrifying to have the incantation bring out such strange feelings in him. He never thought of himself as having a conflict between the parts of himself the way it felt when he was under the influence of that verse.

Slowly, Hermione began to actually sing this verse. It was a sweet sound and Neville and Harry quickly joined in. Harry seemed to know the tune, too. It must be a muggle song. Neville picked it up fairly well, and the three sang the incantation through the night.

Draco woke slowly and left to change and get something to eat before he needed to be back for a short block. When he returned, he burst into the room harmonizing with the rest of them to the song and sending Hermione into a fit of giggles that seemed to hurt quite a lot as she had a look of simultaneous pain and joy on her face as she fell over on the floor.

Luna and Ginny also returned looking exhausted. They took up the singing with Draco. Harry decided to stay to simply be with Ginny as Draco had done overnight.

Neville and Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower to find Ron alone in the common room again. He ran over and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. “Blimey, Hermione! Are you alright? Pomfrey wouldn’t tell me what happened or see you! Luna just said you’d tried to come apart!”

Hermione winced and pulled away. “Yes, well, the incantation had a rather unforeseen effect on us. My back is quite sore and I only have a short break. I’d like to go take a nap with my boyfriend, if that’s alright. I promise we’ll talk when I have another long break and can get some rest.”

Ron’s face fell but he nodded. “Yeah, sure, of course. Makes sense. Sleep well?”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Ron.”

He smiled back at her softly. “Yeah, no problem, Hermione. Anything for you.”

Hermione went to her room to get into something that had not been scourgified after bleeding in it, and Neville did the same. He examined his chest in the mirror. There was almost nothing to it except a gash that looked like a torn piece of parchment with spellotape on the back side. Add it to the others and it was not even the scariest-looking one.

Neville cast a few cooling charms inside his curtains to negate the heat of the day. Hermione curled into his arms and trembled. She was not crying, at least not with tears.

“We almost died. Neville, we almost died.” Her voice was a whisper of fear.

He held her tightly to him and nodded. “I know. It was awful. But, we didn’t die. We didn’t die, Hermione.”

She nodded and leaned into him. “What are we doing? Is this the right thing? If we almost die trying? If we could die trying?”

Neville shook his head. “Shh, no, yes, we’re doing the right thing, Hermione. We’re doing the next thing we needed to do to put everything to rights. We’re not going to die, Hermione. We’re alive.”

She shifted to kiss him. It was desperate, needy. “Please, Neville. I need to feel alive. I need you.”

It was not the most exciting sex they had ever had, but it was exactly what they needed. Neville did all the things he could do that she liked, and she did the same for him. They helped each other when their injuries made movements difficult, and although it would have been awkward if they had anything to prove, instead it was just Hermione and just Neville. It was love.

They fell asleep easily. Neville woke to find Hermione replaced with a note spelled to stick to the pillow that read simply,

> _Thank you for earlier. I love you. ~Hermione_

**August 17, 6pm-August 18, 6:47am**

Neville could hear the singing coming from the seventh floor from about the fifth floor stairwell. As he approached the Room, it grew louder and louder until he opened the door to find everyone but Luna in attendance. Draco had gotten _really into_ the incantation as a song and it was infectious.

They all lost track of who was actually supposed to be on the shift until Luna appeared at some point (what was time, even?) and forced Harry, Hermione, and Draco to leave. Ginny frowned through her singing and gave Luna the two-finger salute. Luna shrugged and tapped her forehead.

But, oh, the magic felt thicker in the room now. When Ginny was relieved by Harry, she went to tell the others.

Although he was nervous, Neville felt like he was ready in quite a lot of ways for what would come next. They would cut their strings and use the enchantment spells to apply the energy to the room, just like they planned. Just like they planned…

It would be fine. Just like getting a haircut, probably?

Harry sat before him now, his hands on Neville’s shoulders and a question in his eyes. He made some motions to help Neville steady his breathing. The question returned to Harry’s eyes and he made the scissors motion with his fingers.

Neville nodded. It would be really nice to be able to talk to someone who was not affected by his own severing. Unfortunately, the incantation still needed to be done more than he needed to talk about his feelings right fucking now.

Harry nodded and another question came into his eyes. Thumbs up or down for Neville right now?

Neville motionsed that cutting was scary, but Draco and Hermione were not.

Harry caught none of that, and had only further questions that could not be communicated.

Neville shook his head and gave a double thumbs-up to which Harry nodded and gave the same motion back.

At four in the morning, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco reappeared to give the others a short break before they all completed the incantation. What should one do when one is mere hours away from severing their soul string to benefit generations to come?

Neville did not know the answer, so he did what he always did when in doubt about what to do next. He went to the greenhouse to tend to his plants.

The Moondews were curled around each other in the dark. His string had brought him to this plant, for whatever purpose it had in his future.

The greenhouse door opened and closed. Long blonde hair shone in the bare light of the moon.

“I’m coming now, Luna. Sorry.”

She approached him. “No, it’s fine. We have a couple of minutes, and I never saw your flowers.”

Neville reached for her and pulled her around to his side of the bench. “It settled in nicely with the one from Narcissa’s garden.”

“That one definitely did not want to go on an adventure.”

Neville chuckled. “No, but I did see which one was the easiest to remove from the clump of bulbs, and this one was definitely the most agreeable. And, now they’re--”

“Neville, can I kiss you?”

He was confused, but not angry like he expected himself to feel.

“Why?”

She let out a deep sigh, deeper than he had known she could do. “This is the only one we’ll ever have.”

Neville must have made some noise of shock because she laughed, rich and melodious. “No, not like that, just after this we’ll never align like this again. And, although it’s selfish, I want to know from my actual experience what it’s like to kiss you, Neville Longbottom. Those futures where we were together aren’t real, and I want just one that’s real.”

He sighed fairly deeply himself. In the darkness, he could not see her face well enough to know, hmm, something, but he could not explain to himself what he would be looking for. Was he curious about what it would be like? Probably, yes. Was this cheating on Draco and Hermione? Draco definitely not, but Hermione maybe?

“Sorry, she will be unhappy about it, but she’ll understand. Sorry.” Luna huffed. “I was trying not to do that for this. I’m sorry.”

Neville laughed. “No, it’s okay. I’m actually glad you said that. What about Ron?”

“Ron is going to find someone else and be twined by the New Year. He won’t care about this at all by the time he finds out.”

He shook his head in amusement? Disbelief? “Yes, then.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck then, and he put his hands on her waist. Their faces came together and their lips touched.

It was fine. They both deepened it, tongues massaging each other, and it was fine. Nice? Kissing your soulmate was supposed to be incredible, right? This was only fine.

They pulled apart and Neville could see her face as she opened her eyes. “I’m glad it was that. I don’t want us to regret anything.”

Neville laughed and pulled away. “Me, too, Luna.”

“It’s time.”

He nodded and helped her through the dark greenhouse and they walked back up to the castle together as simply good friends.

The Room was full of song. Their voices found a beautiful harmony together that built on itself and carried through the room as the magic built and built and coalesced.

Ginny stepped forward and wrote the final inscription over and over around the base of the walls by the floor and then again at the top of the walls where the walls arched into the ceiling.

The inscription was a combination of Elder and Younger Futhark runes meaning Gateway, Movement, Rebirth, Endurance, Plenty, and New Life.

All the inscriptions glowed blue and dimmed to black.

Silence filled the Room for several long moments.

As they had practiced, the group stood in a circle around the initial inscription with soulmates across from each other. They cast the Ostende Filum to see the pile of strings that linked one soulmate to the other.

Harry and Ginny went first. “Protego… Et Servos Separatim…… Ignem Aeternum Ripa Scalpere.”

There was a flash like a camera and the energy was clearly released into the room. Nothing Neville could come up with could explain how he knew, but the energy was definitely there.

Neville and Luna were next. With intention, Neville cast the spells. “Protego… Et Servos Separatim…… Ignem Aeternum Ripa Scalpere.”

It hurt. It hurt somewhere outside of him. How could it hurt outside of him? Like a paper cut, but outside of him? He looked at Luna across from him and she smiled. He smiled back. There was nothing there but Luna.

Finally, Draco and Hermione sighed and nodded to each other. “Protego… Et Servos Separatim…… Ignem Aeternum Ripa Scalpere.”

Another flash of light and all the energy was free. Everyone did the Ostende Filum on the person to their left and it worked. Neville could see Harry’s soul string, looking like a string bracelet around his right wrist, invisible and red.

The energy crackled slightly and they were brought back to their purpose. As one, they uttered the enchanting spell, pulling the energy from the air and applying it to every surface possible.

Infinitum In Aeternum. Infinitum In Aeternum. Infinitum In Aeternum…

They moved in almost a dance around the room, pulling the energy and applying it, over and over.

Then, in the blink of an eye, they were all pushed from the room with their mountains of paper and there was no door, just a solid stone wall across from the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy with his dancing trolls.

Draco was the first to speak. “Drinks are on me down at the Hog’s Head.”

**August 18, noon**

They took new shifts checking to see when the Room was ready. It was easy, just try for ten minutes to get into the Room with a simple request. They tried every two hours all day every day until something happened.

Neville focused for ten minutes of pacing beside Barnabus. He thought of his room at home.

Nothing happened.

**August 19, midnight**

Neville focused on his room at home. At Gran’s house. At the Longbottom’s rebuilt ancestral home.

Nothing happened.

**August 19, noon**

Neville thought of just a bedroom. Not anyone’s bedroom specifically, just a room with a bed and a bedside table and a chair maybe. Best not to try for anything too complicated.

Still nothing. Still just a stone wall.

**August 20, midnight**

Neville thought again of a bedroom, just a bedroom, nothing special.

The stone wall with no signs of changing.

**August 20, noon**

Broom closet? Just a tiny room with some brooms in it.

Nothing.

**August 21, midnight**

Classroom? There were plenty of examples to go off of for that one.

The staircases were moving again. Maybe the Room was almost ready?

No, still just a stone wall.

**August 21, noon**

What do you _want_ to be? Anything interesting? Sex dungeon? Draco showed him that book yesterday. Chippie? He’d been there with Hermione the day before. Comfortable place to hang out? Harry was the expert at that.

Or maybe you want to be a greenhouse? Someplace to see the Moondews raise their future bulbets?

Do you want someone to live in you again? There was that guy before who did, but that was a long time ago. Then there were a whole load of us for a few weeks. Did you like that? Do you remember that?

Are you the whole castle? I think you must be. The magic feels like it’s back again. Not just the stairs, but the walls are repairing the smaller dings and burns from the Battle.

Should we still call you Room of Requirement? We’ve been assuming you’ll be the same as you were before, but maybe you’d like a new name? I’m not great at that part, but I’m sure we could come up with something right between all of us.

Thank you for helping me back in April, by the way. I’m not sure if I’d have made it without you.

Fuck, I’m talking to a wall…

Oh. Hi.

Neville opened the door and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No matter when you've finished this, please tell me what you think! It's never too early or too late!


	21. Epilogue

September 1, 1998

The feast to begin the term was intense this year. There were many tears shed as Professor McGonagall spoke about the losses suffered in the prior years. There was laughter as the Sorting Hat gave a song that was closer to a comedy routine than its usual incomprehensibly long poem.

One thing that made the whole affair really different than any year in living memory was the option given to all students to be re-sorted. Much to everyone’s surprise, there were only a handful of students who wanted to be re-sorted.

Much to the surprise of all three of them, Hermione, Draco, and Neville all stood to don the hat again.

Hermione went first. She had what seemed like a long conversation with the hat, and at the end, it finally called out, “SLYTHERIN!”

A hiss went out from half the hall. Draco’s eyes went wide, but his face settled quickly back into his usual neutral smirk. Neville was not as surprised as he should have been. He knew Hermione wished she had more of the Slytherin social skills, and could understand their tactics. He knew a little about the darkness she could see inside herself and that she wanted to find a way to productively use it.

Hermione accepted the tap of Professor McGonagall’s wand, changing the embellishments of her uniform to be Slytherin silver and green. She walked confidently over to the Slytherin table where Pansy Parkinson was waving to her. Neville was suddenly glad for Pansy’s reappearance last week and for her re-introduction to them.

It was Neville’s turn with the hat.

“Ah, Neville Longbottom. I’ve seen you more recently than your girlfriend over there. Good summer?”

He smiled. “Yeah, decent. Yours?”

“Patchy. So, you want to be somewhere you’ll do the most good? How noble. Very Gryffindor.”

“Yeah, but we both know that although I did the most Gryffindor thing a Gryffindor ever did, including dear old Godric himself, I’d really rather not have to deal with being Captain Gryffindor for the rest of my life. Plus, there was that whole two sides of myself thing. Like I’m half Hufflepuff or something.”

“Listen, kid, you might be steady and calm and accepting like Helga, but when evil needed to be vanquished, you stood up and pulled the sword from me. I cannot put you in Hufflepuff. I have a reputation to maintain. If you don’t like yours, maybe be seen in public with your partners more? I don’t know what to tell you except to say again… GRYFFINDOR!”

“Thanks, friend.”

“Get off my arse, if you please.”

Neville placed the hat back on the stool and shrugged at the assembled school. Draco nodded with an eye roll and Hermione was on her feet clapping and cheering.

He returned to his seat at Gryffindor between Ginny and Seamus, both of them nudging his arms with almost annoyed confusion on their faces.

Finally for the triad, Draco sat on the chair and gave a nice smile to Professor McGonagall as she placed the hat on his head. She smiled back and patted him on the shoulder as she stepped back. Neville suspected that the entire resorting idea had been her way of giving Draco an opportunity to show he had changed.

It was the longest stall in Neville’s eight times seeing the sorting happen. Draco laughed out loud several times, and finally the Hat itself began to laugh and spit out, “RAVENCLAW!”

Neville jumped to his feet and cheered. He saw down the tables, Hermione was also on her feet cheering. It was perfect for Draco now. He just wanted to use his real talents, his mind and wits, to be whatever he would be in the future.

After his embellishments were transfigured to blue and bronze with a smile from Professor Flitwick, Draco took a place at the end of the Ravenclaw table beside Luna who was smiling broadly.

The remaining students were re-sorted with much less fanfare than the trio. When McGonagall finally announced that it was time to eat, Neville got up from the Gryffindor table and went to sit across from Draco. Hermione slipped into the spot beside Draco, and a minute later, Ginny, Seamus, and Dean joined them.

As he looked around their section of table, Neville felt happy. Just really happy.

_**The End.** _

**Author's Note:**

> No matter when you finish this, please tell me what you thought of it! It's never too early or too late!
> 
> (^_^)


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